The Crimson Vault Part 16

He had barely considered how he would be treated in Damasca because of what he'd done. Come to think of it, though, he really had killed dozens of soldiers. It had always seemed like he had a good reason at the time, but he was a murderer. A murderer. Would they lock him up in some jail he couldn't break his way out of? Maybe even exile him to some terrible Territory?

"Don't worry, little one," Kai sang, still dragging Simon behind him. "You'll kill more before all this is through. You've barely gotten started."

The thought made Simon so sick he thought he would lose his last meal all over the Valinhall hallway. He rarely thought in those terms: killing, murder. He thought of what he did as fighting, becoming stronger, defending the innocent. Somehow, those terms made him feel better.

"We're not sure if you've heard," Hariman piped up, "but the Valinhall Incarnation has escaped his prison."

Simon's head jerked almost involuntarily toward the book, and he wrenched himself out of Kai's grasp one more time. "It's the Valinhall Incarnation? The Grandmasters didn't say that."

"They probably didn't want to tell you," Denner said. "Did they seem like they were trying to keep information from you, keep you in the dark?"

Before Simon could respond, Kai placed his palm on Simon's back and firmly pushed. "Less talking, more walking, little mouse."

"What's the hurry? Where are we going?" Simon asked.

"The village of Harinfel," Denner responded.

They reached the entry hall, and Denner raised his sword. He slid his sword down, slicing open a Valinhall Gate, and doing it more smoothly than Simon had ever been able to manage.

"Where is Kathrin?" Kai asked. "Is she waiting with Indirial?"

Denner sighed again, shaking his head. "She has a life outside us, now. She made it clear that if I wanted her to go anywhere near our old master, I was going to have to duel her for it."

"She has the life you all wish you did," Hariman said. "Her skills have made her quite rich, as I understand, and renowned in certain circles. I have always said that you could have made a better life for yourself, Denner, if you would only*"

Denner finished making the Gate and stepped through, cutting off his advisor. Kai made sure that Simon followed before bringing up the rear. He still held Azura, which Simon thought he could understand. Surely Kai missed holding his old sword, and if the dolls were still talking to him, that had to comfort him. He carried Angeline with him now, a blond doll in a black dress with a serious expression. Simon hadn't heard her say a word to him, but Kai still cradled her as if she would speak at any second.

Wait a minute, Simon thought. Wasn't Kai going for his own sword? Where is it?

It was taken, Angeline said. We hope he will earn it back soon.

Simon wished that didn't sound so ominous.

The Gate opened up onto a field of patchy and dying gra.s.s, surrounded by white tents. The tents were lit only by starlight and the occasional candle. Soldiers moved around in the business of war: sharpening weapons, polishing boots, hauling chests from one tent to another. A few soldiers were sleeping, but fewer than Simon had expected, considering that it was the middle of the night. Obviously Travelers were a common sight in this camp, because only a few soldiers looked up curiously at the sight of three men stepping out of nowhere.

Most of the men were either out of uniform or half-dressed, so it took Simon a handful of seconds to recognize their red-and-gold clothes as the uniform of the Damascan royal army. These soldiers were led by no single Overlord, instead serving the Kingdom as a whole. Simon dropped into a fighting crouch, and one hand went to the side as if to summon Azura.

"Put away your fangs, little mouse," Kai said. He smiled when he saw Simon's outstretched hand. "We are among friends." He seemed amused, though it was hard to tell with his hair veiling his eyes.

They simply stood in the center of the camp for a minute or two, letting the soldiers bustle and hurry by them.

"What are we waiting for?" Simon asked, finally. Neither of the others responded, but Denner nodded to a stranger who jogged down one of the aisles between tents to meet them.

He was tall and fit, perhaps in his forties, with barely a few specks of gray in his dark hair. His skin was dark, too*a villager, then*and when he flashed them a grin it was wide and friendly. He wasn't wearing a uniform, only black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves cut off, revealing long, heavily muscled arms.

Simon stared at the man's arms for a moment, almost in shock. Black chain-marks snaked up this stranger's arms almost to the elbow.

He's a Valinhall Traveler! Simon thought. Dragon Army! What is he doing with the Damascans?

Leading, Angeline replied. The Dragon Army once opposed Damasca, true, but with Valin's fall...well, Indirial had different opinions than the rest.

The Traveler*Indirial*came to a stop facing the three of them. He beamed. "It's been too long, my friends. You look well."

Denner smiled back, but he didn't say anything. Kai shook his s.h.a.ggy white head. "We're not here for this, Indirial."

Indirial rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, but give me a moment to pretend we're still friends." He turned his gaze to Simon, and his smile grew more gentle. "And you must be Simon! You've grown."

Simon froze. He pictured this stranger, Indirial, in a black Nye cloak like the one he wore. There were only a few things he remembered about the man who had saved his life: bare, chain-wrapped arms, a long and ragged sword, a black cloak, and a gleaming smile.

Indirial didn't wear the cloak, but his smile was the same.

Simon felt as he had when Benson, the steel skeleton, had kicked him in the chest and sent him flying. He had all but given up on finding the man who had saved his life when he was a child; Valinhall Travelers were rarer than ever, now, and he had come close to convincing himself that his savior must have died over the years. But this was him. This had to be him.

He was on the verge of speaking when a woman ran up to Indirial. She wore brown buckskin clothing and feathers in her hair*an Avernus Traveler, then, like the ones Simon had met in Enosh. However, the few Travelers he had seen had worn feathers of brown, black, or gold*hers were broad and white, sticking up in a fan over her left ear.

"Overlord Indirial," she said, bowing. "We've found a group of survivors. They were headed for Abdera."

"Bring them here, to the other survivors," Indirial responded. "Move as fast as possible. If you can find a few more of those eagles, fly them back. We don't know when that monster will return."

"Sir," she said, saluting.

"Send them to me as soon as you can," Indirial said. "I want to know when we've caught them all."

The Avernus Traveler hurried off, past the row of tents. As soon as she had enough free s.p.a.ce around her, she raised what seemed to be a feather to her mouth and blew. It made a sharp whistling sound that somehow managed to cut through the rumble and bustle of the soldiers' night. A distortion, like heat haze, briefly hid the stars over her head, and then a giant white eagle appeared out of nowhere, as though it had simply come into being mid-dive. It landed on the ground next to her, feathers pure white, and nestled the Traveler's head with its cruelly hooked beak.

The Traveler rubbed its head for a moment and then hopped on the bird's back. She pulled a pair of goggles from a pouch at her side*Simon had seen those before, in Enosh*and strapped them to her head. Then she and the eagle both flew off.

Simon watched them go, his mind whirling. Overlord Indirial? The man who had saved his life was a Damascan Overlord?

"You're an Overlord?" Simon asked. He barely recognized his own voice.

Indirial's smile faded, but he nodded. He seemed to know exactly how Simon felt, and he had a look of patient acceptance on his face.

Hariman made a sound like he was clearing his throat. "Simon, son of Kalman," the book said, "I have the honor to introduce Indirial, son of Aleias, Overlord of the realm of Cana and bearer of the first Dragon's Fang. He's a personal friend of ours."

"I've missed you, Hariman," Indirial said. "We should catch up. I know a few things that might interest you!"

"Oooh!" the book responded. "I have simply nothing but time, Indirial. I am entirely at your disposal."

Denner sighed.

Indirial looked around for a moment. "Where's Kathrin?"

"She couldn't make it," Kai said softly.

Indirial squarely met his gaze. "Due to some trauma in her youth, I'm sure," he said. Kai didn't respond.

"Well, gentlemen, it's time to get to work." Indirial strode off down the rows of tents, not watching to make sure the others were following. Simon did so, mind reeling. Indirial was an Overlord. How many had he sent to the sacrifice? Why had he saved Simon's life? Surely it was his Travelers who had attacked Simon in the first place.

"This camp is outside what used to be the village of Harinfel," Indirial went on. "A few hours ago, Valin came knocking. We're taking you to interview some of the survivors now." He stepped over a soldier who had apparently pa.s.sed out and fallen outside of his tent.

"Valin?" Simon said. He was having trouble processing all the new information he had received in the past few hours. "I thought this was the Valinhall Incarnation we were after."

Indirial stopped. He turned around, but he didn't look at Simon. "Wow, Kai," he said. "You really haven't told the boy anything, have you?"

Kai smiled, but it was a rigid thing, like the rictus of a corpse. "It was never supposed to be me that trained him in the first place."

The Overlord ignored that, focusing on Simon. "Valin was the first of us," he said. "He was also the first to fall. You can draw almost as much power from Valinhall as you can handle, but if these*" he tapped his forearm, which was almost covered by the black chain-marks, "*ever cover you completely, then you stop controlling the power, and the power starts controlling you."

He straightened, and continued walking. "We call that process Incarnation."

"They keep saying the Valinhall Incarnation, though," Simon said. "Is there only one?"

Hariman made an excited sound. "Please, Indirial, allow me," the book said. "For the most part, Territories are only embodied in a single Incarnation at a time. If one Traveler loses control, he becomes an Incarnation. Well, then, you may wonder what happens when a second Traveler loses control. Excellent question! Often, these Travelers simply die on the spot."

Simon resolved to keep a closer eye on his chains in the future.

"Of course," Hariman went on, "there are a few memorable occasions where Travelers have lost control of their power and simply had their minds destroyed by the force. Still others have actually become creatures of their Territory themselves, and were then consumed by their Incarnation. Either way, it is theoretically impossible for two Incarnations of the same Territory to exist simultaneously."

"Here we are," Indirial said. He swept aside the flap for a tent that, to Simon, looked identical to hundreds of others.

Inside a man crouched in the dirt. He wore the outfit that Simon was used to seeing from the village: tan shirt, brown pants held up by a stretch of rope. Very similar to the clothes that Simon wore now, in fact, and in much the same condition: this man's clothes were covered in almost as much blood as Simon's. This man clutched a sheathed sword to his chest and shuddered staring off into s.p.a.ce. He held the sword as tightly as if it were his only child.

The man's two guards, in the red-and-gold of the King's army, stood and saluted when they saw Indirial.

"No change, sir," one of the guards said. "He's stayed put the whole time."

Indirial thanked the soldier and went down on one knee, looking the shaking man in the eye. "What happened?" Indirial asked softly.

At first, Simon didn't think the man would answer. He kept shivering and looking off in the distance. But after a few more seconds of that he turned and met Indirial's gaze.

"There was a swordsman," he whispered. "A swordsman with black eyes. He showed up at the edge of town, and just started walking, but his sword was so big...it was that big." The man noticed Azura, and his eyes widened. He pointed. "That big. The sword looked like that. Where did you get that sword?"

By the last word, he was practically panicking.

"Kai," Indirial said, his voice a razor, "would you please banish Azura?"

Kai said nothing, but he held Azura's hilt out to Simon. Simon took the sword in both hands, but without calling steel he could barely hold it upright. It only took a brief effort of will to banish the blade back to Valinhall.

Indirial noticed. He stared at the s.p.a.ce where Azura had once been and looked at Kai, raising his eyebrows in question.

Kai shrugged.

The shivering man's eyes widened even further. "Travelers," he whispered. "You're Travelers." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Maker be praised," he said. "Now he'll get what he deserves. Travelers will settle for him. He'll finally get what he deserves."

"Please, tell me what happened," Indirial said again. He didn't sound angry; in fact, he sounded quite patient. Simon would have expected an Overlord to make demands, not to ask politely. He had only spoken with Malachi for a minute or two, but the man had spoken like a king until he saw his family in danger. Indirial seemed somehow moreahuman.

"He was just walking," the man went on. "But his sword was so big, and so sharp, it started cutting people. First, it sliced right through one of the ox-lines. Not like he meant to do it, just like he didn't care where his sword went or what it cut. The ox ran off, and it was old Benai's. Benai got mad, so he...he yelled at the guy.

"The swordsman, he looked at Benai, and that was when we could see that he had black eyes. He told Benai that, if he wanted him to stop, he should get a weapon. He kept walking. Benai, well, he had seen the guy's eyes. He screamed and started to run, but then the swordsman stabbed him in the back."

The man squeezed his eyes shut. "He called the man a coward. He said that, if any of us deserved to live, we should prove it. And then he brought the sword down, like he was cutting the air itself. And a thousand shadows came out."

Simon stared at the man, horrified and sick. At least now he knew where the Nye had gone.

"They were everywhere, these shadows. They choked...they just...they had these chains..." the man started crying. Simon looked away uncomfortably. He could imagine what kind of horror this man had endured, but it still felt wrong to him to watch a grown man cry.

"We know," Indirial said gently. "Trust me, we know. How did you survive?"

"My brother had this sword, and I knew about it," the man said. "When we were kids, we would take turns practicing with it. Pretending, you know? So I got it. When one of the shadows came for me, I managed to stab it through the chest. It just sort of...slithered away, like a snake."

The look in the man's eyes became pure horror. "Then he came."

"Were you in his way?" Denner asked. He sounded more curious than anything else, which surprised Simon until he thought about it. Surely, Denner must have heard even worse stories than this one.

The man shook his head. "It seemed like, when I killed this shadow, like he started looking for me. There was a wagon in his way when he walked toward me, and he just...he just cut it in half and kept walking. When he came into my house, instead of using the door, he cut his way through the wall. I just stood there. Frozen, you know? But I was on my feet, and I had my sword."

He clutched his sword tighter. "The man with black eyes, he said, 'Come out of your house. If you deserve to live, prove it.'"

The Overlord interviewed two more witnesses that night. Their stories were the same: anything the black-eyed swordsman ran into, he cut it apart. Anyone he ran into, he fought them. If they ran, he cut them down, like they weren't worth his time anymore. And the Nye, at his bidding, killed even more. The village of Harinfel had lost almost eight out of ten of its residents. Most of the survivors were children or the very old, those that*to hear Kai tell it*the Incarnation had considered unworthy of his attention. Only three men had faced it with swords in hand and survived.

They all agreed on one thing: the Incarnation was headed southeast.

"Toward Cana," Indirial said. He had taken the other Valinhall Travelers to his own tent, which was much larger than the others and set with tables and chairs. "If I know anything about Valin," the Overlord went on, "he'll make a beeline for the capital. And if I know anything about Valinhall, he'll cut through the King's guards and challenge Zakareth himself to a duel."

"Will that matter?" Denner asked. "We know how well-protected the King is. Even against an Incarnation, couldn't he hold his own?"

Kai spoke up softly, but he kept his gaze on the face of his doll. "Against the Incarnation of any other Territory, yes," Kai said. Denner sighed.

"That's not the whole story," Indirial said. "It gets worse." Then he turned to face Simon. "Doesn't it?"

Simon stared the Overlord in the face. How had he known? Did Damasca have their own spies in Enosh?

Indirial has his own sources of information, Angeline told him. Don't worry too much about it.

"The Grandmasters know the Incarnation is loose," Simon said reluctantly. "They're planning to attack."

Kai and Denner both turned to stare at Simon. Indirial just nodded, as though one of his suspicions had been confirmed.

"You have risen far, it seems, little mouse," Kai said.

Simon shrugged, trying not to let his discomfort show. "Alin insisted I go to the meeting," he said.

"And I, for one, am glad he did," Indirial responded. "Because we can use this information against the Grandmasters. Before they destroy everything we've worked to protect."