Jon Sprunk - Shadows son

Vassili slammed down his cup, splashing tea on the desk. "Earl Frenig was the crux of this scheme! His daughter escaped from your men and ran off to God-knows-where. And what's worse, your dupe is free as well. With them loose, all my plans are in jeopardy. Do you know how long I have labored, how many assets have been expended, all to see this day? I will not waste this opportunity."

Ral tugged at his chin. Was it possible Caim had taken her? But why? What did he think to gain from it? He couldn't possibly know her value.

"I don't see the problem." Ral held up a hand to forestall any protest. "Please, Radiance, hear me out. All Caim knows is that he killed an old nobleman and a few soldiers."

"He knows more than that. Earl Frenig was dead before your man ever entered the house."

"Dead? I don't understand. The plan-"

"I modified the plan. I did not trust your men to time their entrance with precision. A moment too soon and they would be party to murder, leaving more loose ends to clean up. Too late and we'd have what we have now, an unaccounted asset free in the city with knowledge that could destroy everything. Two assets, if the girl saw anything, and she likely did. So I sent another agent."

Ral chewed on that for a moment. What other machinations had the archpriest devised without consulting him?

"You never told me why we're making all this effort over an old man, not even an elector at that, and his brat of a daughter."

"Never mind the reasons. Your job is to carry out your orders to my satisfaction, and I am very unsatisfied tonight."

"Be that as it may, it hardly makes a difference. Caim is alone now, a fugitive with an entire city searching for him. He cannot go to the authorities. If he's hindered with a girl, he'll soon be caught, and then we'll have them both."

"You mean the prelate will have them. Don't you think this thug, this Caim, will spill everything he knows for a chance to save his life?"

"He doesn't know anything of import. Besides, he'll never make it to the dungeons. I will make sure of that."

Vassili shook his head. "I'm not willing to gamble with happenstance. I want them both eliminated immediately. My forces are in place. Before the next new moon, Benevolence will suffer an untimely mishap. The Council will convene to elect a new prelate, and I will offer myself as a candidate for the high office, a motion which will meet with quick approval."

"And as your faithful servant, I expect my promised reward. Our agreement called for a lordship, lands, and title."

The archpriest picked up another scroll. "You will receive your due compensation when this matter is completed. Mind the task I have laid before you. I want the girl and this man dead. You may go now."

Ral grabbed his cloak and left. The manservant preceded him through the doorway. Just as Ral crossed the threshold, Vassili called out, "Don't fail me again. My patience is almost at its end."

Ral turned and made a bow. "As you command, Radiance."

The soles of Ral's leather boots slapped on the tiles as he stalked through the atrium, past the bodyguards who didn't look as if they had so much as blinked since he entered. Ignoring the manservant who held open the door, he strode out into the brisk night air. This business was getting out of hand. Once he had thought Vassili would be the herald to all his dreams, but more and more of late he was beginning to doubt the archpriest's true intentions. If Vassili managed to gain the prelacy, he might decide that his old allies were too dangerous to keep alive. Ral had no intention of being discarded after his work was done. Perhaps it was time to form a contingency plan. One couldn't be too cautious in matters such as these. A man had to look out for his own interests.

Another thought nagged at Ral as he vanished into the shadowed streets of the city. If it wasn't Caim, who killed the old man?

Vassili frowned at the water-stained parchment in his hand. Your Radiant Grace, Conditions in the state of Eregoth continue to deteriorate. An influx of Utheno- rian mercenaries-brigands in all but name-into the usurper's armies has foiled our latest efforts to undermine the local viceroy. Rumors of strange happenings in the highlands continue to persist. Most of the peasants have fled or been taken to parts unknown.

We beg Your Radiance to send additional men and monies, as both are in perilously short supply.

Your Servant, with all humility,

Jacob Mourning, Aspirant

With a curse, Vassili tossed the letter on the desk amid a pile of papers, all bearing similar reports from his agents in the north. Some had not bothered to report at all. He was tired of their complaints, the endless wheedling for additional funds and soldiers. He was more concerned with events here at home. Banditry and lawlessness plagued the countryside. Arnos encroached from the east, and the prelate's "holy war" against the god-kings of Akeshia in the distant east had left Nimea with inadequate forces to guard her own borders.

Vassili broke the elaborate seal on the next missive and unfolded its stiff parchment. This one he found more to his liking.

Brother in Faith, We most happily accept your gracious gift to the impoverished unfortunates of Parvia. As the Holy Texts profess, surely your heartfelt generosity shall be remembered forever.

Furthermore, we hereby agree to an alliance of purpose on all matters that come before the Council.

Archpriest Gaspar, Viscount of Parvia

After reading the message, Vassili folded it with care and placed it in the hidden compartment under the bottom drawer of his desk. A dozen archpriests presided over the twelve holy districts of Nimea. Together, they formed the Elector Council, a body ordained to advise the prelate and, when necessary, elect his successor. With Donovus gone and Gaspar's support, he held half of the Council securely in his pocket. Now, if only Ral could be counted upon to perform his task with alacrity, all would be set.

A shiver went through Vassili as the temperature dropped and shadows stirred in the corners of the room. A figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and lean, almost to the point of gauntness, he wore a simple monk's robe, black as the night, cinched at the waist by a plain length of cord. His pale face hovered in the candlelight. Its stern lines came together to form a powerful jaw, a twisted nose. White scars creased hollow cheeks, old wounds poorly healed. Shadows smudged the sockets of his deep-set eyes. Black pupils like cold, bottomless pits swallowed the light.

"Levictus." Vassili made a show of looking over the latest plans for the cathedral's baptistery. "You overheard?"

The figure moved to the spot where Ral had stood only moments before. His voice, though only a whisper, carried through the chamber.

"Nothing remains hidden from the Dark."

The archpriest reached up to touch the medallion on his chest and forced himself to look upon the man's ruined features. Levictus winced as candlelight reflected off the symbols etched on the golden surface, and Vassili allowed himself a satisfied smile. Sometimes a pet, no matter how faithful, needed to be brought to heel.

He jerked his chin toward the doorway through which Ral had departed. "That one grows bolder every day."

Levictus opened his left hand slightly, and then made a flicking gesture as if to say, The man is insignificant, an insect, but there was something ominous in his gaze.

"In any case," Vassili continued, "there is a more dire matter at hand. Namely, your failure in Ostergoth. You assured me that your necromancy could protect Reinard. I made guarantees based upon that assurance, guarantees which are now returning to haunt me. The duke's brother sits on the Council. He will no doubt demand concessions as a result of this debacle, concessions that will cost me dearly. Well? What say you?"