Firesign 1 - Wage Slave Rebellion (46 page)

Mazik nodded shamelessly. “Yes ser, definitely ser. We want it quite a lot.”

The Tyrant snorted. “Manners don’t suit you, boy. I could tell that as soon as you walked in. Here,” said the Tyrant, tossing one of the bags across the room with strength her stick-thin arms shouldn’t have possessed. Mazik only barely caught it before it bruised him in the chest. He missed the next one though.

“Ohoho, that was great!” said the Tyrant, slapping her thighs. Major Rur and Captain Ankt did little to contain their mirth.

“Are you okay?” asked Gavi as she knelt down beside Mazik.

Mazik groaned and pulled the bag of coins off his face. “I’m beginning to hate her….”

“Beginning to what now, boy?” asked the Tyrant, who was suddenly squatting next to him, her wrinkled face close to his.

Mazik glared at her. “I said I’m beginning to hate you.”

“Ohoho, cheeky guy, aren’t ya!” said the Tyrant, patting him on the cheek. Then she popped up, her charcoal skirts twirling about her as she hobbled back to her desk.

“All right, this is the last of your payment,” said the Tyrant, patting the last bag on the desk beside her. “But before you get it and run off, I’d like to learn a little more about who is taking so much of our money.” She crossed her legs and clasped her hands on her bony knees. “Tell me, what do you think about this whole adventurer business? I know these were the first quests you’ve ever done, so I’m curious as to your thoughts.”

“It beats the hell out of selling door-to-door and getting yelled at by angry shopkeepers and old ladies,” said Mazik. He grinned wryly. “Not that I’m having any better luck with old ladies, apparently.”

The Tyrant snorted. “I shouldn’t think so, at not least for someone like you. We old ladies may like the occasional rascal, but we don’t like outright liars. Now focus, boy, and answer my question.”

“Well, I—”

“No, I changed my mind,” said the Tyrant, stopping him. She pointed at Gavi. “You, darling. What do you think about being an adventurer?”

Gavi’s mind went blank. She felt like she was just asked to a give a speech, only she couldn’t find her cue cards. She looked at Mazik, who shrugged. Raedren did the same.

“Take your time, hon,” said the Tyrant. “Like I said, honesty. Just tell me what you think.”

“Uhm, of course,” said Gavi, nodding. She took a deep breath, putting everything else out of her mind, and thought about the question. What
did
she think about being an adventurer?

“It’s frightening,” said Gavi after a minute. “Maybe it’s different for others, but I’m not a very good caster, so I was scared to death the whole time. I was afraid I’d make a mistake and end up dead, or worse, I’d screw up and let someone else die. I just … didn’t feel like I was good enough to be there. Or not powerful enough, really.”

The Tyrant remained silent.

“It’s not all bad though. Some parts were great.
Are
great,” said Gavi, gaining more confidence as she spoke. “We have more freedom now, and if we don’t want to do a particular quest, we don’t have to. We don’t have to do
anything
if we don’t want to. But when we do, and if we
win…
” And here Gavi’s expression grew more distant as her mind dove into the past.

“Well, that felt great,” said Gavi. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt happier in my life than when I realized we had tried to do something so big and crazy, and
won
.”

The Tyrant grinned lewdly. “Nothing has ever made you as happy?”

Gavi could feel her cheeks growing red. “A different kind of happiness, I guess.” The Tyrant slapped her knee, laughing bawdily.

After a few seconds the Tyrant settled down. “And? Anything else?”

“Well, I liked helping people,” said Gavi. “Winning felt great, but that faded. I can still remember it, but it’s not quite the same. But the faces of the people we saved…” Gavi smiled as she remembered them. “I think I’ll remember those forever. That’s what I’m really proud of.”

Raedren smiled wistfully, and even Mazik nodded.

“Hmm,” said the Tyrant. She examined them like a scientist studying an especially interesting culture of bacteria. “Adventurers who actually care?” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Ceara, is this true?”

“No idea,” said Major Rur. “All I know is that they’re good at blowing things up and aren’t very good at negotiating.”

The Tyrant chuckled and turned back to Gavi, her face becoming soft yet serious. “And do you still think you’re not good enough?”

Gavi thought about it, aware that all eyes were on her. Finally, she shrugged.

“Probably not? I don’t know. I’m not as good of a caster as I want to be, but I’ll work on that. These two already said they’d help me,” she said, nodding to her friends. Mazik gave the Tyrant a thumbs-up. “Until then, I’ll just do the best I can,” said Gavi. “That’s all anyone can really do, I guess.”

The Tyrant smiled warmly. For a moment she no longer looked like the ruler of one of the most powerful cities on Aegis, but a kindly grandmother who was proud of how her granddaughter was growing up. “Very true. Very true my good girl,” said the Tyrant. “Remember that and you’ll go far. Or at least, farther than you might have otherwise.

“Now you, tall lad,” said the Tyrant, pointing at Raedren. “I’ve got a question for you as well. You’re the one who used to be a nurse, correct?”

“Actually, I still am,” said Raedren. “I decided not to quit until we got into a guild.”

“Probably wise,” said the Tyrant. “Beware of too much caution, though. Sometimes you need to throw caution to the wind like an enemy spy out of a third-story window if you want to get anywhere.”

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” said Raedren as he wondered how exactly she knew about spies vis-à-vis third-story windows. He guessed close, personal experience.

“Anyway, you seem like a kind man to me,” said the Tyrant.

“Thank you,” said Raedren.

“None of that, boy,” snapped the Tyrant. “I never said I
liked
kind men. Now be quiet and listen.”

Raedren shut his mouth, all of his attention on her.

“Obedient too, I see.” The Tyrant was cold, and stared down at him like a disapproving schoolteacher. “Here’s my question: how do you, a man who spends his days healing people and giving them back lost limbs, feel about being party to the taking of lives?”

Raedren was quiet for a time. “Conflicted,” he said finally. “I’m still conflicted. I agreed to help because I thought Mazik might try to do it without me, and I didn’t want him to get killed, but—”

“Told you,” said Mazik.

“Not the time for that,” said Gavi. “But yes, well done.”

“—I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole thing,” Raedren continued. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t personally kill anyone, but I know that doesn’t count. If I hadn’t been there then people who died may have lived, so part of that responsibility is mine.

“But the people we killed were bad guys, or at least they were doing bad things. We also tried
not
to kill whenever we had a choice, though unfortunately we didn’t always have that option, or the time,” Raedren added with a frown. “So I don’t know. I think we did the right thing, and I think the situation turned out better for us having been involved, but I’m not sure how I feel. I really don’t know.”

“…a couple of starry-eyed idealists you’ve got here,” said the Tyrant, still looking at Raedren, though the comment wasn’t directed at him.

“Oh, there’s idealism there,” said Mazik. “I’m not sure about starry-eyed though.”

The Tyrant nodded, slowly. “Perhaps true.” She clapped her hands on her thighs. “All right. Fair enough young man, fair enough.”

The Tyrant turned to Mazik. “And you.”

“Ruh roh,” said Mazik.

The Tyrant smiled unpleasantly. “I’m glad you’re getting a handle on the situation.” Then her humor fell away.

“You are responsible for the deaths of innocent civilians.” The Tyrant stared down at Mazik like a judge condemning a criminal. “You, sir, are a killer.”

Mazik said nothing.

The Tyrant smiled tightly, like a fox to her cornered prey. “Not rising to it until I explain, eh? Good.” She plucked a file off her desk and opened it.

“From what I understand, you’re the one who came up with the idea of breaking the knife in half, and then decided to bring the broken half with you into The Pit,” said the Tyrant. “Because of your decision, which I can only assume was made because you wanted to taunt your adversary, their leader was able to get a hold of both halves of the knife, put it back together, and go on a nice little killing spree from which you were unable to stop him. Not before it was too late for many.”

Still Mazik said nothing.

The Tyrant picked up a brass letter opener shaped like an assassin’s dagger. She turned it around in her hand. A finger slid along the blade, and she gently set it down.

“As I said, my dear man, you are a killer. Not only did you take lives, and a lot of them at that, but your mistakes led to the deaths of those you were ostensibly trying to protect, not to mention the slain soldiers and guards who willingly fought alongside you.” The Tyrant refolded her legs and leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. “Well? What do you have to say in your defense?”

Mazik rubbed his neck and grimaced, but stood tall.

“I truly regret my decision,” said Mazik, his voice clear and strong. “If I hadn’t brought the other half of the knife, then some of the people who died might still be alive. It was stupid and petty and unnecessary, and for that I am sorry.

“
That said
, what use is there in beating myself up about it?” asked Mazik. “Say we left it behind. Just the top half—breaking the knife was a sound strategy, and I stand by it. So say we left it behind. Probably the cultists would have run off. What reason would there be for them to stick around and fight if what they wanted was somewhere else? And if they couldn’t find it, they could have just scattered and started killing people until we gave it to them. Maybe then we would still be dealing with them today, instead of mopping them up all at once.

“What I’m trying to say is, who can say what might have happened?” said Mazik. He shrugged. “Those people died. It could have easily been worse, but it also could have been better. Even so, I’m damn proud of what we did. We aren’t perfect, but we never claimed to be. I will learn from my mistakes, but I think we did pretty well all things considered. If you or anybody else disagrees with me, that’s fine, but I’m still going to be proud of what we accomplished, and to hell with everybody else!”

Silence.

No. One. Said. A. Thing.

It was the most intense silence Mazik, Gavi, or Raedren had experienced in their lives. A small clock on the wall ticked away, each stroke suddenly louder than the largest of clock towers, its hands snapping into place with the finality of a falling axe.

The Tyrant tossed her head back and laughed. “Ohoho
ho!
You were certainly right, Ceara! I
do
like these three!”

Major Rur smirked, and gave the three a wink. “Congratulations. She’s fond of you.”

“Yes,” said Captain Ankt. He lowered his head. “My condolences.”

“Oh, none of that, Storr!” said the Tyrant, waggling a finger at Captain Ankt. “Don’t go making people think I’m some evil witch.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling. “I prefer to do that myself.”

Mazik slumped forward, physically drained. “Can we stop with the questions now?” He grabbed his own cheek and shook it. “I’d rather fight a hundred cultists than endure this.”

The Tyrant rocked back in another bout of laughter, sending more paper sliding off the desk. Dnorn scrambled to catch everything. “I’m sure you would, you murderous lout!”

“That’s starting to hurt,” said Mazik.

“It’s true though,” said Raedren.

“Please, have mercy,” said Mazik, holding up his hands. “I can’t take much more of this abuse.”

Gavi smiled and ruffled Mazik’s hair.

“Oh my,” said the Tyrant, bringing herself under control. “Thank you, I needed that. Stap, please bring out their gifts.”

“Gifts?” said Mazik.

“Yes, gifts,” said the Tyrant as Dnorn tapped the wall behind the desk in three different places and then danced his fingers across the blank panels like a drunken spider doing a jig. A drawer slid open. “I wanted to give you a little something extra for your services, especially considering how woefully underqualified you were to do any of the things you did.”

“Seriously, can’t take much more…” said Mazik.

The Tyrant snorted. “Come now. Didn’t you wonder why I wanted to see you personally?”

Gavi laughed nervously. “Yes, we did. We just imagined worse reasons.” She was feeling talkative now that the interrogation was over.

“Wise,” said the Tyrant. “Always expect the worst. You’ll either be pleasantly surprised, or right. Just don’t let it stop you from doing what needs to be done. Ah, here we go,” she said as Dnorn walked over holding a box. He opened it, and she peered inside.

“Leeeet’s … yes, let’s start with this one,” said the Tyrant, selecting something small and glittering. She slid off her desk and stood up. “All right, smartass, you first.”

Mazik walked over until he was standing in front of her.

“Come on, kneel down,” said the Tyrant. “Don’t make an old woman look up at you, you marginally attractive young man.”

Mazik kneeled. The Tyrant opened her hand and a necklace dropped in front of his face, swinging like a glittering pendulum on the end of its silver chain.

“Do you know what this is?” asked the Tyrant.

Mazik cupped the pendant in his hand. It consisted of a pale gem the color of blue topaz, cut into an oval and set in five claws of silver flame. Mazik peered into the gem. Inside were flecks of red, silver, and gold which danced in the soft light like a flame encased in ice. “I’d say it’s a necklace, but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for.”

“Quite right, smartass,” said the Tyrant. “Lean forward.”

Mazik lowered his head. As the Tyrant fastened the necklace around his neck, she explained.