Son of Khyber: Thorn of Breland (16 page)

An interesting time for a fable
, Steel whispered.

Thorn was equally puzzled. At the same time, she was entranced. Daine was a master storyteller, and it was hard not to be swept away with the fable.

“The Progenitors stand above the gods. They are the architects of reality, aware of all the paths the future might take. And for whatever reason, they chose to share these mysteries with mortals. The answers lie in symbols left by the fissures of earthquakes, the motion of the moons, glyphs traced out by lava flows and hurricanes. These are the pieces of the great Prophecy. And three thousand years ago, the Progenitors chose a new canvas for the Prophecy. The dragonmark, traced across living flesh.

“It took time for people to understand the meaning of the marks, the powers they possessed. But it soon became clear that there were two sorts of marks. The true-breeding marks of the Twelve could be passed from father to son. They were reliable. Predictable. And for the most part, constructive as opposed to destructive. Healing. Creation. Defense. The families who carried these marks quickly claimed them as gifts of Siberys, a blessing fallen from the sky.”

He held up his hand, and the lines of his mark danced across his skin.

“And then there were the other marks. Chaotic. Unpredictable. And dangerous. Marks of fear and fire. People who could kill with a touch or sow terror in the minds of others. Difficult to control, often dangerous even to the bearer. But dragonmarks nonetheless.
They
called these aberrant marks and said they were a sign
of Khyber’s touch. And perhaps they are. But Khyber is a part of our world. Above, below, and between—you cannot have one without the others. Khyber’s voice can be heard in the Prophecy, and we have our role to play in the future of this world.

“In the past, our kind were almost as numerous as the children of the Twelve. We never know if we will pass our marks to our children, but our marks are free, not bound to any bloodline. We can appear anywhere. And so we spread across the nations. But we were scattered, and that was our weakness. We lacked unity. The Twelve saw us as threat and scapegoat. They hunted us, and by the time our leaders saw the full scope of the menace, it was too late. But even if we could not win this war, Halas Tarkanan was determined that we should not fall without a fight. He gathered our people and made of us an army. We lacked the resources of the Twelve, and propaganda turned every hand against us. We made them pay for their victory. But in the end we fell.”

It wasn’t just the dragonmarked who paid that price
, Steel whispered.
What of the people of Sharn?

The aberrants didn’t choose the fight, Thorn thought. Should they have just laid down and died? However, Steel couldn’t hear her thoughts, and he did not respond.

Daine continued. “For over a thousand years, the touch of Khyber was all but unknown. Where it appeared—usually when those of the Twelve mingled their precious blood—it was called a curse, the marks even cut from the flesh of the children who bore them. We were painted as monsters. But while we suffered, there was one blessing for the world. The rise of Galifar held the ambition of the dragonmarked houses in check. Their power grew, but they could not challenge
the Five Nations when they stood as one. It was no vengeance for what had been done to us. But it was a beginning.

“And so we find ourselves in the here and now. Galifar is no more, while the Twelve are more powerful than ever. House Lyrandar commands the air. House Cannith stands ready to produce legions of steel and stone. Phiarlan and Thuranni watch from every shadow. And the kings of this land are so afraid of each other that they dare not challenge the true threat. That is our role. That is why Khyber’s touch has been seen in greater numbers with each generation since the war began. We are destined to return balance to this world.”

He drew his sword, and its polished blade gleamed in the torchlight. Thorn saw a symbol on the hilt: the same sun-and-eye symbol she’d seen on the Deneith brooch.

“Some of you know my history,” Daine said. “Others do not. My name is Daine, and I was born to the Halar family of House Deneith, fifteen hundred and thirty years ago. Halas Tarkanan was my cousin, and in my younger days we clashed on the battlefield. Then my own mark appeared. If not for my cousin, I would have been killed by my own father.”

Impossible
, Steel whispered. He wasn’t alone. Murmurs rippled across the crowd. Daine’s deep voice silenced the whispers. Somehow his calm voice made even the ridiculous seem possible.

“If this sounds like a miracle, it is. I fell in battle alongside my cousin. But my soul was saved from Dolurrh and trapped within dreams until destiny called for me. I have been freed from the Keeper’s grasp to finish the fight my cousin could not win. And I tell you that this time we shall not fail! This time
we
are the tools of the Prophecy, and we shall change the course of history!”

These words were met with a roar of approval. For all that his words seemed like madness, Daine’s presence was a powerful force, and the growing enthusiasm of the crowd was infectious. Brom pounded on the floor with his mighty fist, cheering the loudest of all. Only one person seemed unaffected by the speech: Xu’sasar. The dark elf stood in Daine’s shadow, silent and still.

Daine waited for the noise of the crowd to subside before he continued. “The founders of this House have done well to bring you together, and we have already begun to build our forces in other cities. This is our time, and our numbers will surely continue to grow in days to come. However, we will never be able to match the Twelve on the field of battle. They have fortress enclaves in every major city, private armies, resources gathered from fifteen hundred years of preying on the people of Khorvaire. So we will not fight them on the battlefield. We are no nation. We don’t need to conquer and hold territory. We shall strike where they are most vulnerable and be gone before they have time to react. And we strike tomorrow!”

We cannot allow that
, Steel whispered. His voice was clear in Thorn’s mind even over the cheering crowd.

“Tomorrow we will destroy a forgehold of House Cannith. Each of you will have a role to play. Some will join me on the assault itself. Others will engage in acts across the city that will help to distract the house from our efforts. And the remainder will stay here, ready to defend, to tend to the injured, or to evacuate should the need arise. But make no mistake. As of this moment, you are soldiers. The War of the Mark begins anew. Together, we shall avenge every child of
Khyber unjustly slain, and save Khorvaire itself from its deadliest foe!”

Daine raised his sword as he spoke, and his mark burned with brilliant light. The crowd roared and shouted, brandishing weapons and stomping their feet. Thorn rose with them, cheering with the crowd. But it was a show for those around her. Behind the mask, her thoughts were racing. And Steel’s whispers confirmed her fears.

He has to die
, Steel said.
Tonight
.

The Undercity

M
any of the Tarkanans remained in the common room after the speech, drinking and discussing the challenges the morrow would bring. Others had retired to the barracks, choosing to rest for the exertions that lay ahead. Thorn wandered the halls until she found a quiet corner. Drawing Steel, she crouched on the balls of her feet, her back set against the wall. There was a chance someone might come this way, but she wasn’t worried. When she thought back to Zae and her rats, it seemed unlikely that anyone would question a new girl muttering to her dagger.

“So why does he have to die?”

Don’t start this again. Tomorrow they plan to destroy a Cannith forgehold. Aside from the lives that would be lost in such an action, House Cannith is a strategic partner of our nation
.

“And Karrnath, and Thrane, and Aundair …”

All the more reason to prevent this attack. The goods produced locally are those most likely to reach Brelish markets. Suppose that Karrnath launches an attack against us. Even if we haven’t alienated the house, if
their production facilities within Breland have been destroyed, Karrnath will likely receive the greater share of their goods
.

“So Daine was right,” Thorn said.

About what?

“‘The kings of this land are so afraid of each other that they dare not challenge the true threat.’”

Since when did House Cannith become a threat?

“The moment it started producing human warforged.”

I’m still unconvinced that what you saw was what it appeared to be. And you are not one of these people. They are murderers
.

“And I’m not? Barely a day has passed since I killed a Deneith Sentinel. By touching him, let me remind you. He said I deserved to die for my tainted flesh, and he almost killed me. So he wasn’t my enemy?”

He was fooled by Fileon and the false mark you wear on your face—

“And would have killed me because of it.”

He was fooled by your mark. He was indeed your enemy. And perhaps Merrix is as well. But House Deneith is not. House Cannith is not. You are an agent of Breland, Lantern Thorn. The parameters of this mission have always been clear. Learn what House Tarkanan is planning. Identify their new leader. And if necessary, eliminate him. It has become necessary. It’s not simply a question of stopping tomorrow’s attack. For years House Tarkanan has been content to play a minor role in the criminal underworld. This Son of Khyber has turned them into soldiers. If he is removed, the will to fight may die with him. Will you fulfill your duty?

Thorn sighed. As much as she hated it, he was right. This was her mission. “Yes.”

Your evaluation?

“I’ll have to act alone. I’m sure I could get away from here. But they’ve got a strong defensive position at the main gate, and there’s an evacuation plan in place. As you say, the primary goal has to be to kill Daine, and a frontal assault would surely give him time to escape.”

Agreed. And truth be told, I don’t entirely trust the commanding officer of the Sharn Dark Lanterns. You have a plan?

“I believe I do,” Thorn said. “But before I get started … what about what he said? Returning from the dead? Is it possible?”

It seems unlikely. There are a few cults that claim that the Keeper saves the souls of heroes from Dolurrh so they may be returned when they are needed. But there’s no documented evidence of it ever happening. Although
…

“Yes?”

There was a Daine who fought for Deneith in the War of the Mark, a master swordsman and commander of troops. But the accounts of the battles say that he was killed by Halas Tarkanan
.

Thorn frowned. “Whose records?”

Almost all accounts of the War of the Mark were recorded by scribes of House Sivis
.

“Who surely wouldn’t have any interest in skewing the story to avoid any mention of an officer developing an aberrant dragonmark and shifting sides.”

There was a pause as Steel considered this.
I see your point. Nonetheless, I suspect it’s just a story he’s using to influence his troops
.

“Good. Because if he
has
been pulled back to this world after being dead for fifteen hundred years and charged to change the course of history …”

Yes?

“I’d imagine history won’t be so pleased when I spoil its plans.”

Perhaps he has been chosen to change the course of history, and you’ve been chosen to change it back
.

Thorn shook her head. “I hate prophecies.” She stood and spun Steel in one hand. “Let’s see if we can cut the threads of fate.”

Two guards stood on duty when Thorn finally made her way to Daine’s chambers. She did her best to ignore them, fixing her eyes on the hallway ahead, and as she’d hoped, the two sentinels barely acknowledged her as she walked between them.

Well done
, Steel whispered. The dagger was in her hand, but thanks to the glamer she’d woven, he appeared to be a bone throwing wheel. Thorn’s skin was pitch-black, while her blackened mithral vambraces now appeared to be made of opalescent chitin. The guards didn’t see a half-elf recruit. As far as they could tell, she was Xu’sasar, the one person always allowed in Daine’s personal quarters.