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Degrees of Delusion, Page 2

Lindsay Buroker


  “Fortis,” he said in a cool voice. “I didn’t believe it. But when I saw the name you signed in with... Why are you here?”

  Idiot, Fortis. Next time make up a name. I kept the thought to myself and studied my old lover. He had gained weight. His brown eyes regarded me without warmth. Whatever had been once, was gone. If it had ever been at all. I blinked. Where had that thought come from?

  “To make a profit,” I responded. “I’m a merchant now.”

  “Seems strange to me that you should show up on my outpost out of all the possible ports you could choose to sell in.”

  I countered with, “Seems strange to me that you should be working where I chose to sell, given all the possible assignments you could have had.”

  His brow furrowed as he tried to track the logic of my argument. There was not a lot of logic there. I was just buying myself time to think.

  “So, how’s being an officer?” Better to interrogate him than let him interrogate me.

  A smug smile curved Ross’s lips. He flicked imaginary dust from his shiny rank. “I’m a good officer. Much better than you ever were.”

  “I guess that’s why they booted me out and let you stay in, eh?”

  “You had no right in the Academy in the first place. Son of a dockworker. I hated that you scored higher than I did on the tests. You didn’t even study. You were always getting in trouble, but all the professors put up with you anyway.”

  For the first time in years, I wondered about the events surrounding the evening that had seen my commission revoked. Ross and I had always been careful, pursuing our relationship behind locked doors. How had we ended up together on the parade field that evening? We had been drunk, or at least I had been. Ross had led me there. Belatedly—oh so belatedly—my brain scrutinized my memories. He had not been surprised when that general and his staff showed up. No, he set me up. Why? And what story had he told to keep from being discharged himself? Or had his family connections been enough to save him?

  “So,” I said, disguising shock with attempted casualty, “why did you betray me?”

  He laughed. “So, you did figure it. Is that why you’re here? Revenge?”

  Figured it out three seconds ago. But I would not admit that. Better he think I had known all along; it lent me a hint of omniscience, and I needed every advantage I could glean right now. At least, this meant my arrest had nothing to do with our mission. That brought relief. But Ross would never release me if he thought I intended him harm.

  “Revenge? I’m glad to be out of the army. Day after day surrounded by mindless thugs. I ought to thank you. My new career is much more satisfying.”

  “You’re fit for a merchant. You’ve collected quite a few scars.”

  With shirt taken, I could not deny it. “Pirates. No uniform to hide behind when you’re a civilian. You have to look tough or they’ll try to steal your cargo.”

  “You’re a good liar, Fortis. You can think fast enough to make it sound plausible.” His words contained more insult than praise, I sensed.

  Stay calm, Fortis. “Paranoid, aren’t you? Are you going to let me go back to my shop? Sitting here in jail is destroying my profit margin.”

  “I don’t care about your profit margin.”

  “You weren’t always this much of an ass, Ross. I suppose it’s human tendency to treat the people who you’ve wronged badly though, isn’t it? Easier to dismiss them if you can pretend they’re subhuman.”

  “Be quiet, Fortis. You’re more annoying now than you ever were. If you hadn’t been such a good lay, I couldn’t have stomached spending enough time with you to make things work.”

  My jaw clenched, and I lost my composure. He smiled wolfishly. I struggled to bury pain beneath an indifferent facade. Ross had meant much to me once. Had he ever cared about me? Or had the relationship been designed to see me discharged from the beginning?

  A new set of boots rang on the stone. A stocky figure with salt-and-pepper hair came into view. He too wore an imperial uniform, but his rank declared him a lieutenant colonel. The post commander? Great. The captain would not be pleased by the attention I had garnered.

  “Are you done here yet, Lieutenant?” the colonel asked. “I’m hungry.”

  Ah, I did not have the colonel’s attention after all. Merely two officers stopping by on their way to lunch.

  “Almost, sir. Just dealing with an irritating prisoner.”

  The colonel looked at me, twitched bushy eyebrows. “You’re not one of my soldiers.”

  “No, sir,” I said. “Just came to sell merchandise. This officer detained me for no reason.”

  “I’m Colonel Uthur. I run this post. The lieutenant works for me. I’m sure he had a reason.”

  “Of course, sir. Perhaps you could have him explain it to me?”

  The colonel and I turned expectant stares on Ross.

  “Uh,” he said.

  I folded my arms across my chest. He could not explain his reason for holding me without explaining everything, including how he had betrayed me.

  “He signed in with a fake name,” Ross blurted.

  The colonel turned back to me.

  “I have two names,” I lied smoothly. “My given name, and my business pseudonym which I keep separate for tax purposes.” I had no idea whether such things were actually done, but hopefully the colonel did not either. The Academy taught strategy, history, math, and science, but had little interest in turning future officers into entrepreneurs.

  “You pay taxes to the empire?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m a loyal citizen. I even have an interest in some of the old founding families. I’ve read about the Geminars, Tams, Duxes, and,” I gave him a leading look, “the Uthurs. You wouldn’t by chance be related to those Uthurs, would you? From the First Ascension War?”

  A smile cracked the colonel’s weathered face. “A direct paternal descendant.”

  “Really! How amazing to be able to trace your lineage back to important people ten generations ago. Didn’t your ancestors help with the Lenarain Invasion as well?”

  The colonel’s smile widened. He leaned against the bars. Speaking rapidly, he lectured on his family’s history. I added new questions and made comments every minute or two. Luck finally favored me. I had stumbled onto the colonel’s passion. Wariness waned in the presence of enthusiasm. A guilty twinge at the manipulation filled me, but I was in jail, and the captain would expect me to use any means to escape.

  I glanced at Ross. He was following the conversation with a dyspeptic expression.

  The colonel wound down. “Would you like to come to lunch with us?”

  Ross gaped.

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  “Lieutenant,” the colonel said. “Go get the keys. Unless you have some more potent crime you wish to accuse this man of.”

  Ross opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and scowled. “No, sir.”

  * * *

  Lunch passed uneventfully, followed by a tour of the outpost. The colonel showed me the defenses, the buildings, a newly built aqueduct (I could have designed better), and its predecessor, a drained underground reservoir. I filed away the sites, but found myself more engaged by the colonel’s company. I enjoyed hearing an imperial accent again and from the lips of an educated man. He spoke of his wife on the mainland, children, looking forward to retirement. He should have been a friend, not an enemy. My cheer had grown quite forced by the time we reached the tiny marketplace. A sullen Lieutenant Ross trailed along behind us.

  I introduced them to my soldiers/employees. The colonel examined our merchandise and selected a few bottles of the more expensive stuff. Akari’s mouth dropped when she realized we had the outpost commander at our shop. I winked at her.

  The colonel clapped me on the back and told me to come visit again before I left. Ross gave me caustic scowl and slunk after his commander.

  Akari pulled me aside. “What was that about? How did you get out?”

  “You first. Did you gather a
ny information during my detainment?”

  “We managed to get a copy of the guard roster, who’s on duty, where and when for the next week.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Now,” she said, “will you tell me what those officers have to do with our plan?”

  “Just getting a feel for things.”

  “The younger one seemed to hate you. He kept glaring at your back.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Ross. He’s a...former acquaintance.”

  Something in my tone evoked a smirk. “Former lover?”

  “The uh, parade field one.”

  “Really!” She goggled at me. “He’s chubby and has a big nose. I thought you had better taste.”

  “I thought women were supposed to be less concerned about looks than men.”

  “Not necessarily. We’re just concerned there be some sort of personality underneath the looks.”

  “Well, Ross is...was a good actor personality-wise, and he’s not that bad looking.”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You moon around after the captain, after all. He’s hideous.”

  “He is not! Er, what do you mean?” Then more plaintively, “Is it that obvious?”

  She laughed. “Probably not.”

  “Do you think anybody else knows?” I whispered, “Do you think he knows?”

  “I doubt it. Even intelligent men can be absolutely obtuse when it comes to relationships. They’re either the types who are convinced every woman in a tavern wants to sleep with them, or they’re the kind who don’t realize it when someone has loved them for years.” She gave me an accusing glare, and I wondered which category I fell into.

  “Well, I’m not looking for women anyway, so it hardly matters.” The sheet of ice that settled over her eyes suggested I had said the wrong thing. I handled it like any commander would. I made an excuse about finalizing the plan, then fled to the hostel.

  * * *

  Fang sat in the corner while I paced from door to window, window to door. Throughout the afternoon, I had become more and more convinced I could not consign these imperials to their deaths. Neither could I betray the captain. Fool, Fortis. You should not have agreed to join the advance party. It’s too hard to kill people once you know the men behind the uniform. You know this. And yet, here you are. Because you so desperately want the captain’s approval, his respect. I growled softly to myself. How could I balance his respect with my conscience? Conscience, or was it the anticipation of guilt? Perhaps that’s all conscience was.

  Daylight faded outside. I did not notice Fang light the whale oil lamps, but their glow eventually penetrated my muzzy thoughts.

  “What’s he doing?” Akari asked.

  When had she come in?

  “Don’t know,” Fang said. “He’s been pacing and muttering for a while.”

  Akari planted herself in my path. I crashed into her upraised palms. I blinked, then offered a questioning grunt.

  “What are you thinking about so assiduously?” she asked.

  “Alternatives.”

  “Fortis...”

  “They’re just doing their jobs. Four hundred men, and we’re going to execute them, for what? A contract imposed by a man we don’t even like?”

  “Not a man,” she corrected. “A wizard, remember? Foregoing the contract could be deadly for us all.”

  “We’re supposed to take the outpost, right?”

  “Yes...”

  “Who says we have to kill all the soldiers to do that?”

  “They’re not likely to hand the place over. And there’s nowhere to keep prisoners.”

  I plucked a pen from the desk and began tapping it on my thigh. “There’s an underground reservoir that used to supply the outpost with water. It’s been empty since the aqueduct was built. It could hold hundreds, temporarily at least.”

  “We’d still have to capture them. Even if the company catches them by surprise, the captain can’t risk taking prisoners, not when they’ll be trying to kill us.”

  An idea formed. I smiled. “What if they were already taken prisoner by the time the company got here, and we just handed the captain the key? Our employers should be happy; hostages are more valuable than bodies.”

  Her dark eyes narrowed. “Assuming we forget the captain gave us explicit orders, how would you propose to imprison four hundred imperial soldiers? Just the six of us?”

  “What do regular people, soldiers, fear more than anything?”

  “Well—”

  “I don’t mean on an individual basis, but collectively, what terrifies us mere mortals?”

  “Wizards, I suppose. We can’t kill them with our weapons, so they’re almost like gods.”

  “Exactly. That fear is doubly potent in the empire because only the emperor himself is supposed to call the mystic powers. I’ve heard of people hanged or stoned to death if they were suspected of showing an interest in magic. That’s why everybody with the ambition goes to the desert.”

  “What does this have to do with—”

  I chopped the air with my hand. I explained the plan taking shape in my mind. After several minutes, she shook her head.

  “You’re a megalomaniac. That’s insane.”

  “I assure you, it’s brilliant.”

  She snorted. “You want to do this in seven days?”

  “I think we could. If we start tonight.”

  Akari dug her fingers into her hair and paced a few steps. “This isn’t what the captain asked us to do.”

  “I know. But he’ll like it when he sees the result.”

  I glanced at Fang. He shrugged. No help there. Akari stared at me, an inscrutable expression on her face. I could order her to obey, but I wanted her consent to be voluntary.

  “I’ll assume the blame if anything goes wrong,” I said.

  She pinned me with a cool stare. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll all be dead.”

  “We better make it work then. Ready for phase one?”

  “Now?”

  “Time is crucial.”

  “I guess.”

  Could any general hope for a more enthused response from his troops?

  * * *

  Night hugged the outpost, broken only by the tiny glow of lanterns at each intersection. As Akari and I approached the gate, scorpions fought in my stomach. This wasn’t going to work. We would be too suspicious, too obvious. I would end up back in jail, or worse. How could we make this look more natural?

  I took Akari’s hand and leaned close. “Are you up to making this romantic walk look real? Don’t feel obligated to say yes. I was just thinking it would make a believable segue.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Sounds good.”

  We turned off the main road—the gate was closed for the night—and strolled along the base of the wall. Surreptitiously, I watched the walkway above, seeking figures silhouetted against the starry night.

  “It’s a shame we can’t go for a walk on the beach,” I said in a pitched tone that would carry above the sound of lapping waves in the distance.

  “Yes,” Akari said in an equally pronounced voice. “It’s a lovely night for it.”

  I detected a rustle of clothing from above and slowed to a stop. I tugged Akari’s hand, and we leaned against the wall together. She slipped her arms around my waist.

  “Don’t be afraid to make some noise,” I whispered into her ear.

  She quickly demonstrated she had few inhibitions in that area. She pulled my head down, and we put on a noisy kissing and necking show for the benefit of the guards. A few whispers came from above, a muffled snicker, and the creak of wood as more guards joined the audience. Some heavy breathing filtered down. Huh, voyeurs. Of course, we lovers were far too engrossed to notice their presence.

  I squeezed Akari’s shoulder. She was supposed to be the one to begin the conversation. Instead, she held me tighter and buried her face against my shoulder. Startled, I lifted a hand and found moisture on her cheek. What was wrong with... Oh. Fortis, you
dolt. I recalled our earlier conversation. Which category indeed.

  I lowered my head and whispered, “I’m sorry,” into her ear. I wish I could be what she wanted, make the moment real for her.

  She nodded against my shoulder, then took a deep breath, and stepped back. “I’m too worried to concentrate on this right now.” She did not sound sincere, but hopefully the guards, who did not know her like I did, could not tell the difference. I guessed we had four or five of them up there listening.

  “I wasn’t aware that being with me took such concentration,” I said, feigning indignity.

  “It’s just... Do you think that stuff about the magic is true? They wouldn’t have any reason to use it on us, would they? We’re just traders.”

  “Even wizards appreciate alcohol,” I said.

  “Is it possible? What they were saying back in the empire? To hear them talk about it, half Kershan’s chain of command is experimenting with the forbidden arts. Even if it’s just the officers, anyone who works under them is suspect.”

  “It’s none of our concern. You heard what that admiral said. They’re sending the navy out to take care of it soon. Anyone who’s suspected of tinkering with magic, or even of turning a blind eye to commanders who’re tinkering with it, will be court-martialed and hanged.”

  An indrawn breath came from above. Soft enough we could pretend not to have heard it, I decided.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Akari said. “If the problem is as widespread as the empire thinks, where will they keep all those soldiers while they’re trying them?”

  “There’s supposed to be some old underground reservoir. That would probably work.”

  One of our listeners shifted his weight, and wood creaked. Convenient timing.

  “Did you hear something?” I stage-whispered.

  “I’m not sure.”

  I pulled Akari away from the wall. “Let’s get out of here.”