At Least He's Not On Fire: A Tour of the Things That Escape My Head (26 page)

She nodded, as if she’d heard that before. She had. “Our father said taking his last name was a disrespect to our mother, and that it would be better for our personal legacies if we earned a last name from those we encountered.”

“Our father you say? The other soldier is your brother then? I suspected as much, the family resemblance is there.”

Umaryn felt her worry creep slightly higher again. She did not want this man to know Malwynn was her brother. Unfortunately, the man had already devoured any chance she had at maintaining that secret, “Yes. His name is Malwynn.”

“Malwynn and Umaryn the soldiers. Interesting that your mother and father would allow both their children to join the Queen’s army. Most parents only allow a single child to join. Did your parents not care for you as much as other parents do?” The robed man asked her in a tone that nearly caused anger in her. He was baiting her, testing her patience and self control. She didn’t fall for the trap.

“We are two of three children. Our parents needed the income both my brother and I working provided. This is our way of helping to pay them back.” Her words were the truth. In New Picknell both she and Malwynn worked to help support the family.

“Ah. Duty to family. Something I haven’t experienced in some time. I focus on my duty to the Queen now.” He said, sounding somewhat judgmental. Umaryn felt her story had convinced him. She remained silent, hoping the man would leave her be.

“You’re from Graben then?” He said. Her hopes of being left alone were dashed.

“Only just recently. My brother and I actually hail from a very tiny village near the border with Varrland. We’ve just visited home, that’s why we’re heading back to Graben.” Umaryn felt a surge of confidence. She had no idea she could lie so easily to someone so dangerous.

“Small village life seems so pointless. I maintain that the military should just roll up all of these little villages and bring them to Graben. Keep all the populace in one place that’s easy to control. Does your village produce anything of value Umaryn? What validates its existence?” The thin figure leaned in towards her in an inquisitive way, clearly wanting to hear someone he deemed as lesser than he share logic.

Umaryn wasn’t sure if she should agree with him, or argue her point. She was swimming in dangerous waters. “Well sir, I don’t know what someone of your station would deem valuable. We don’t mine, nor do we produce lumber, but we do have multiple farms that produce a fair share of food. We grow more food than we eat, and we send our surplus to the Queen. I imagine the Queen’s army appreciates eating meals.”

He sat back in the plush green leather couch and chewed on her words, “I imagine they do appreciate eating. Of course we could simply kill them and reanimate them all as undead. Then we’d need no food at all.”

“We’d still need to replace their losses in battle. That means having babies, and growing them up to adults. There will always be a need for farms and food in the Empire sir. No amount of Necromancy can change that, no disrespect intended.”

The robed figure chuckled evilly, “None taken Umaryn with no-last-name. I enjoy your wit and intelligence. I suspect you’ll rise through the ranks of the Queen’s army readily.”

“Thank you sir.” She tipped her head in deference, and appreciation. She was strangely flattered by the scary figure’s compliment.

The robed figure went silent for a time.

When Malwynn awoke some time later, the train was running along the foothills of the Snake Ridge Mountains. Amaranth was a wide nation, many thousands of miles across from east to west. It was cut into three pieces by two large mountain ranges. The eastern mountain range, nearest to the Realm of Duulan was called the Giant’s Back Mountains. Ellioth had told his children that the summits along the Giant’s Back were the highest peaks in all of Elmoryn.

The Snake Ridge Mountains were nowhere near as tall, though they were much longer. It would be a very long trip indeed to span the length of the spine of the range, and the city they were headed towards was perched against the cliffs running alongside of them. The rails heading towards Graben were less than two miles from the edge of the mountains, and the location offered a view of the mountains that lived up to the Artificer’s claims. This was a natural beauty that neither Malwynn nor Umaryn had ever set eyes upon.
 

“The majesty of the Snake Ridge Mountains Malwynn,” the robed figure said menacingly. Malwynn sat up abruptly, unaware he was being watched. His mind raced trying to figure out how the daemon at the end of the car knew his name. His question was answered with a wave of the eerie figure’s hand. He pointed a bony finger at Umaryn, answering his question. She shrugged ever so slightly, trying to convey the entire conversation he’d slept through.

“Yes. They’re quite the thing.” Malwynn struggled to gather his wits. He’d only been awake a few seconds, and wasn’t prepared to have a conversation with someone so alien, so… un-preferable.

“Your sister here says you hail from a small town. How has life in Graben treated you? Quite the change from small village life, yes?” Malwynn felt the questions were heavier than the words used to compose them revealed. He was skeptical of what the man was actually asking.

“Oh, it’s different, that’s for sure. However, we’re kept busy, and there’s little time to dwell on silly things.”

Malwynn could swear the figure smiled under his black hood, “True words.”

Malwynn formulated a plan, and after a minute of watching the ridges and crests of the massive mountain chain pass, he launched his first question at the spooky passenger, “Might I ask your name my lord? You appear to know mine.”

The hood moved slightly, indicating a nod, “Your sister was polite enough not to ask the name of a man well above her station.”

Malwynn smiled, “My sister was always the more polite one. I’m far more direct.”

“I see this. Both aptitudes have their use thankfully. I shall grant your meager request Malwynn with no-last-name. You may call me Inquisitor Dram Sorber.”

Malwynn’s blood ran cold. Inquisitors of the Queen held tremendous power in the Empire. They served as spies, magistrates, executioners, and most were powerful users of The Way. This man was potent indeed. “You’re skilled in The Way aren’t you? A necromancer?”

The hood tilted to the side slightly, “Is it that obvious Malwynn? Does my power radiate from my body like heat comes from the sun? Can you feel my power?” Malwynn knew the man’s words were intended to intimidate, and his knowledge of Dram’s goal caused the attempt to fail.

“No. I merely made the connection with your robes, and the presence of your… escorts.” Malwynn waved his hand casually at the two zombies sitting on each side of the Inquisitor. Malwynn suddenly noted the strange smell of them. Like spices scattered on rotting meat.

Dram leaned back and looked to the twins, assessing them both. Umaryn tried to remain neutral, and kept her gaze on her brother. “Well as you’ve assessed, I am indeed one of the Queen’s Guild Necromancers, as well as an Inquisitor. I’m quite busy you see.”

Malwynn leaned back in his own couch and nodded in false approval. So much of his body wanted to draw his dagger from his belt and leap across the car to drive it up under the chin of the man near him. Whether or not Dram had anything to do with the death of his family, and the destruction of New Picknell, he felt this man deserved to die. His title alone warranted execution. Malwynn showed none of this, and continued on with his friendly and respectful demeanor, “It’s quite the pleasure to meet you Inquisitor. I’m sorry if my blunt nature has offended you in any way.”

“I’m amused by your natures Malwynn and Umaryn. Most citizens are petrified to even be near an Inquisitor. It’s a pleasant change of pace to find anyone willing to strike up conversation. They are all afraid I’ll pass summary judgment on them, and have them put to death.”

“Have you done that Dram? Have you had people put to death?” Umaryn asked.

“Well young lady, I am an Inquisitor. We didn’t earn our reputation by not putting people to death.” Dram laughed slowly, and all the color drained from the twin’s faces.

Malwynn and Umaryn struggled to stay focused as they waited at the bottom of the wooden ramp that led to the freight car Bramwell and Tinder rode on. Graben was an impressive city, far larger than anywhere they’d ever been, and its startling geography had them captivated. Graben was a city divided in half, albeit in a strange fashion.

The city rested flush against a massive cliff in the Snake Ridge Mountains. At the base of the cliff was an area Ellioth had called the Low City. Squat timber homes and buildings spread out from the side of the cliff like an urban stain on the earth. Hundreds upon hundreds of structures were arranged along shoddy dirt roads for hundreds of yards. The ripe stink of human waste and dirty animals filled the air, thick and pungent. Where they stood in the Low City, on the very outer edge was the Artificer Guild rail yard. Unlike the tiny rail station in Ockham’s Fringe, this structure was an edifice, dedicated to the Guild as well as the Queen. It rose many stories high, and was chiseled out the grey granite that formed the bedrock of the Snake Ridge Mountains. Columns, domes, intricate carvings and scrollwork, and the ever present color Purple made the building seem enormous, ominous, and cold. Where they stood at the base of the platforms gave them a view of the city unlike anyplace they could’ve imagined.

Cut into the face of the cliff and running the entire width and breadth of the Low City were doors and windows, indicating that there were homes and businesses entrenched within the stone cliff itself. Near the very center of the Low City and carved into the cliff was a perfectly rectangular space that slid upwards into the mountain until it opened up to the sky at the top of the cliff, well over a thousand feet above the land they stood on. In the channel carved from the cliff two platforms moved up and down side by side in a balanced dance. Both platforms had a footprint larger than their family home in New Picknell, and one rose at the same speed that the other fell. The twins could see people, wagons, horses and even a Gvorn or two on the platforms. From this distance they could see massive chains powering the lifts, but could not discern what controlled the mechanics. Umaryn suspected the Artificers Guild was involved.

At the top of the giant cliff there was a second city. They knew it to be called the High City, the home of Graben’s political and military elite. On many window sills, and lining the streets they could only barely see, they saw the tiny purple flowers that gave the Empire its name. Each home in the upper city was carved directly into the face of the mountain, and they were all grand monuments. The smallest palace carved into the mountain on the level of the High City was two stories tall, and beyond beautiful. The stature of the owners of these homes could be gauged by their opulence, by their size and the amount of carvings etched into their faces.
 

Despite all their independent beauty and character, none could hold a candle to the palace of the Purple Queen. The terrain at the top of the cliff could not have been parallel to the face, for the palace was set further back from the edge than the other residences. The cliff carvings outlining the palace reached up high, at least ten floors higher than the next largest home in the High City, and the detail and grandeur was unmistakable, and oppressive. Sinister gargoyles flanked by intricate pillars decorated the stone the entire length and width of the palace. Intermixed in, tall statues of winged men and women spread their arms in a benevolent gesture, likely meant to lure the populace into believing the resident of the palace was kind, and caring.
 

No Queen of the Amaranth Empire was kind, or caring.

“I find myself staring at it every time I return too,” Dram said from the platform above them. Mal and Umaryn shook the distraction from their eyes and turned to him. He towered above them even more than before, flanked by his two undead pets.

“There is something special about it,” Umaryn said before her brother said what she knew he wanted to say.

“Indeed,” Dram returned, his face still shrouded in blackness under his purple hood. The six people on the train had already left. They practically ran away from the train and Dram’s entourage. Despite being in such a massive city, they felt very alone in his presence. As they shared their moment of strange silence, one of the Artificer Guild’s laborers led Bramwell and Tinder down the ramp. Dram’s eye line dropped from the cliff down to the animals as they were brought to the twins. Tinder immediately nuzzled Umaryn as she took the reins from the laborer. Bramwell was slightly less affectionate.