Vagabonds Read online

  Bernand leaned back in his chair. “I assume there’s a point to you bringing this up? Anyone with enough money can be a big fish in a little pond, and that backwater is about as little as it gets.”

  “I assume,” said Mandrake, closing his eyes momentarily, “The danger here is that she intends to expand the pond and sink everyone around her into it.”

  “And? Let’s say she rebuilds their military and gobbles up a few of their neighbors. So what? They’re too far away to ever pose a threat to us, let alone anyone with an actual army.”

  “Leave it to the man with his head buried in rocks to miss the obvious,” Kamona said, her voice a knife’s edge, “Yosel may be a sandpit, but several of its neighbors are not. A significant amount of our favorable food import trades originate from those neighbors.”

  “How favorable?” Bernand asked, sitting upright.

  “I know this only because of my concerns,” Mandrake said, pressing a hand to the back of his neck to give it a good crack, “Because that area is such a hotbed of bullshit, most nations have imposed trade sanctions on them—as if that does anything—so we wind up obtaining a significant advantage by trading them our outdated arms.”

  Kamona nodded in agreement, “Nearly 50% over market value, I believe.”

  Bernand, for once, had little to say and fell into thought.

  “This is a situation that bears observation,” Ifon said, “Though the death of Julian should throw them into chaos for a while.”

  The meeting shifted towards matters of internal finance and possible new trading partners, but the general agreement was it would be best if the status quo was maintained. With that, the time for the meeting had elapsed and the governors dispersed, returning to their home regions until the next monthly assembly.

  All except Tomar. Once the room had cleared, both he and Ifon stood and helped themselves to the small bar in the corner of the conference room.

  “How long do you think it’ll take them to dispatch their spies?” asked Tomar as he poured himself a small amount of whiskey into a tumbler over ice.

  “With any luck, they’re already in contact with their cohorts,” said Ifon, “This group seems more promising than the last, at any rate.”

  “Mmm. The last bunch were difficult to predict.”

  “Mortals can be so… Aggravating. You try to herd them along and a few members decide to veer off on their own course. Makes things so much more difficult than it need be.”

  “In time we will no longer have to play at these human games, though Yole’s death is a setback. From your earlier mention, I presume you believe… What’s her name? Ah, yes, that Tess is the one responsible?”

  “Yes. No mortal could have made a shot like that, let alone a double tap. Given how that cunt is so smitten by mortal arms, it has to be her,” said Ifon, voice rife with contempt.

  “There you go again,” sighed Tomar, “I have no idea why you romanticize the old days.”

  “Because in the old days we didn’t have to tip-toe and scheme. We didn’t have to play by their rules. We commanded, they obeyed. Before, they knew they were children. And now? They’re children with guns thinking themselves grown up and we have to keep our heads down unless we want them shot off.”

  “Is that so? We always had to posture and maneuver around each other,” Tomar said in a soothing tone, “What’s one more obstacle to consider?”

  Ifon’s fingers drummed against his glass. “I cannot fathom why Sejit allies herself with Tess. She’s honorable, respects the old ways. That she’d join forces with someone so uncouth and unknown…”

  Tomar had taken to a plush, over-sized chair in which to enjoy his whiskey and earn a bit of respite from Ifon. “Because even back in the old days, that jackal was wealthy. Tess may be a flimsy nobody from who knows where, but she’s adept at playing the human game and has been around long as any of us remember.”

  “Only because she has no pride.”

  Tomar laughed, earning himself a glare from Ifon, “And we do? Those with any real measure of pride vanished eons ago.”

  “Watch yourself, Phytos,” Ifon said, his voice a growl, “I have my pride, as do you. Sometimes we must swallow it, but we are never without it. This is a fact, I think, that Sejit finally realized. I’m fairly certain it’s why, after an age of stillness, she’s begun her bid for power.”

  Tomar hummed as he sipped, and then, where the human Tomar once was, there appeared Phytos.

  His skin had faded to nothing, replaced by hard, dark-green scales. Hands shifted to claws, and his head stretched out, elongated, mouth filling with rows of pointed teeth. Clothing, loose upon his body before, strained as it filled out. The over-sized chair had become a normal-sized chair for the crocodilian god Phytos, Weigher of Souls.

  Drinking had become slightly more difficult, both due to a lack of cheeks and the fact the glass was not so easy to hold in scaled claws.

  “Much better,” he said, the words tumbling from his maw incomprehensible to anyone who had not years of experience listening to him, “I don’t know how you hold that form for so long.”

  “Because I must.”

  Phytos acknowledged him with a crocodilian stare, “I suppose so. I also suppose she may seek to challenge you, seeing as how there remain only three great gods.”

  “Perhaps. It remains to be seen what Daontys will do. He may be pompous, but he isn’t stupid; his supposed pledge of neutrality and minimal mortal interference won’t hold forever. He’ll see her rising significance in the region and act, lest he be left behind. Seeing as how he has less love for her than me, I suspect, in time, he’ll approach me with an offer.”

  “Are you so certain?” Phytos said, folding his claws together, “He’s been rather adamant these past centuries about not interfering in human affairs.”

  “Yet he chooses to nest in Erton, arguably the most powerful nation. I have no doubt he whispers in their ears, regardless of his claims.”

  Phytos responded with a toothy smile, which meant leaving his mouth cracked open a smidge, “You think everyone is deceitful, save for Sejit.”

  “And when have I been proven wrong?”

  “…You may have a point.”

  “That matter aside,” Ifon said, as he set an emptied glass upon his desk and spun it, slowly, “There remains Tess’ insult. We cannot allow this to stand.”

  “Says the wolf building a mortal military,” Phytos said, leering in the way only he could.

  This earned the crocodile a look.

  “Sometimes I question why I keep you around. It is how we use the tools. If she had any self-respect she would not soil herself through such direct use of the thing, but instead command others to do it for her.”

  Phytos let slip an odd, hissing noise that Ifon knew to be laughter and stood, “Because someone has to do your dirty work for you and without me, you’d have no one to complain to, let alone to command.”

  “You know me well, old friend,” Ifon said with a passing grin, “Speaking of. I hate to ask this of you, but…”

  “Hah. If you hated it, you wouldn’t do it. Not that I mind helping you out. So, what would you have me do?”

  “Tess has always been one to… fancy mortals, allowing herself to be defiled by them on a regular basis. Breeding with them. Raising families,” he spit the words out as if he were discussing the habits of beasts, “She has such fondness for them. I wish to destroy that fruit.”

  “You sure? She may attack us in retaliation. What if, when we succeed, Sejit supposes her son may be in danger?”

  “To the first point: What is she going to do, use her guns? Hah! She’s powerless and Sejit will not throw away years of effort to fight on her behalf. On the second, no, Sejit knows we’re no fools.”

  “I see. Can’t say I’m thrilled about butchering mortals.”

  “That soft spot will be your downfall one day,” Ifon said as he poured himself a fresh tumbler. The melted ice in the glass reformed into crisp, shapely
cubes. “There are billions of them. The few should be honored to even be noticed by us. That said, I’m aware it will take time to locate them. I’ll tell the chief of the ISA to assist you.”

  Phytos sucked in a chest-filling breath and let it out, slowly. As he did, he began to shrink. The drink in his hand was much easier to finish off, now that he had the proper sort of face for it.

  “As you wish,” he said, departing the room.

  Ifon sat, alone with his thoughts.

  She should have learned by now what happens when she trifles in affairs she doesn’t belong. Perhaps this reminder should serve to finally teach the lesson. Now, the next question is if Sejit knew about this. If so, then how she has fallen…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Several days had passed since the gala.

  Sophia rubbed at her eyes and slumped against the elevator wall as it ascended. Chirping birds had heralded the shift from late night to early morning while she was on the way from her apartment to Sejit’s penthouse.

  It wasn’t the first time Sejit had made a special request of her, if she had counted right, this was something like the dozenth such time, nor would it be the last. For a goddess, Sejit sure liked to offload work onto her. Or maybe it was because she was a goddess.

  The elevator came to a halt and the doors whispered open into dark hallways. She ambled forward, casting furtive glances into open rooms as she went. Despite the gloom, she knew just where to go.

  Sure enough, as she peered inside one particular room, a pair of glowing eyes peered back.

  Sejit had slept in her hulking, furred, two-legged form. She’d been curled up on a magnificent bed, the kind with big posts, its own silken canopy, and little tassels on everything. Only difference was, instead of a big rectangle, it was circular. A giant, exquisite pet bed. Not that Sophia would ever mention aloud that’s what it was.

  The lion stood and stretched, arching her back, allowing steak-knife sized claws to slide free from their sheaths on her mighty paws. A yawn revealed rows of pointy teeth and the poof at the end of her tail swished about.

  “Good morning,” Sophia said, leaning against the doorframe, “I think I finally tracked down Hu’phed, or at least where he last was…”

  Hopping off the bed, the divine beast stalked towards Sophia on silent, padded feet.

  “I was not expecting you to be done until… later,” Sejit said with a long blink, reaching up with an extended claw to give her big pink, triangular nose a scratch.

  “It was a bitch, but not as much as a bitch as I was expecting.”

  “Show me what you uncovered,” said Sejit as she strode past Sophia and into the hallway, motioning with a paw for her to follow along. A little way down, Sejit reached out without looking to flick the lights on.

  Sophia squinted against the overhead glare, which wasn’t really all that bright, but after lingering about in the dark for so long, even a 25-watt bulb would’ve been enough to blind her.

  In the penthouse study, Sejit turned on a desk lamp, its harsh light made soothing by the semi-transparent green shade, and began poking at the newly-illuminated keyboard. Her claws clacking against the keys, Sejit woke up the computer, its monitors adding their own glow to the study.

  “Wish I had a setup like that,” Sophia said as she dropped into an overstuffed chair. She wasted no time getting comfortable, which meant sitting in it sideways so her head hung off one armrest and her feet the other.

  “No one is preventing you from purchasing one,” Sejit said, giving the girl a sideways glance.

  Given the hour and the task she completed, she could let Sophia’s sitting posture slide. The lion goddess settled into her wheeled desk chair, carefully crafted with slots to allow her tail freedom while also supporting her unique anatomy. Even her keyboard and mouse were bespoke, enlarged to be usable by her thick, fuzzy digits that were three, four times larger than a typical mortal’s appendages.

  “My salary is.”

  “If you want a raise, there are better ways of asking.”

  “Can I please have a raise, oh benevolent, magnanimous Sejit?”

  Sejit’s nostrils flared, “I am beginning to imagine you enjoy testing my patience.”

  “…Sorry,” said Sophia, stifling a yawn, “But seriously, these past two weeks I’ve done nothing but work and sleep. My cats meow at me non-stop, begging for attention. Probably think I hate them, the poor things. Could I at least get, like, over-time or something?”

  Sejit’s paws skittered across the keys, navigating to a set of online folders and files that Sophia had collected as part of her investigation. Inside the directory, she opened the most recently modified file and skimmed its contents. She’d given the girl just about everything she knew on Hu’phed, but that information was over a hundred years old. Yet, here was the finished product, a compilation of names, photos, and blurbs about professions and associates.

  Every so often, Sophia could do impressive things, such as display an erring ability to ferret out the next hidden link in a chain. This was something Sejit considered every so often, whether or not it would be worthwhile to try and develop that ability. The main reason against it was the exceptionally low chance of success; she had vowed to keep Sophia safe after all.

  “Fine, you can have another 20%—If this turns out to be correct.”

  “Yes! I mean, it damn well better be! But…” Sophia trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

  “But?”

  “I gotta ask, Hu’phed was a god of medicine and healing, right? It’s not just something us humans thought he was?”

  “Correct.”

  Sophia had sprawled out as much as she could sprawl with an arm over her eyes to shield them from the light. Traces of what she’d read drifted through her mind, along with the photos. She could have done without the photos; they gave her imagination something to latch onto and expand.

  It wasn’t just the brutality that got her. She’d witnessed Sejit turn people into a pile of meat on multiple occasions. The first time was disturbing, but she’d gotten accustomed to it, perhaps a little too quickly. Made her think she was getting too acclimated to violence and gore in general. But then she’d seen what Hu’phed had done. Sejit’s victims had always been killed in seconds, sometimes less. Might even be said she killed them mercifully—no pain, no torment. Hu’phed did not.

  “So how come for the past however many years all he’s done is kill people? Especially during The Endless War…”

  “Could be he despises mortals,” Sejit said, without bothering to look away from her screen. She continued to tack away and scroll, “Or he simply grew bored.”

  Sophia’s arm fell away and her eyes focused somewhere beyond the ceiling. “Bored? Really? That’s some shit to do because you’re bored.”

  Sejit paused for a thought. “Imagine working the same job for thousands of years, experiencing everything the world had to offer within that role. Then you learn there is much more to existence than you originally thought.”

  “But those so-called experiments, like, he had to know everything already, right? There was nothing for him to learn. That was pure torture. Why?”

  Sejit scrolled through some of the images of the purported medical experimentation that Sophia had included. Black and white and sepia photos of what had been, at one point, humans.

  “Most likely. And to answer your next question, I suspect he capitalized on an opportunity proffered. It is not often someone is allowed to do those sorts of things with a state’s blessing. He may have already known the workings of the body, but they did not. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “My own country did that, harbored him, used him. I mean, we were on the winning side, we were supposed to be the good guys! They attacked us!”

  “During times of war, “The enemy” makes for the best test subjects. After one is exposed to enough propaganda dehumanizing the other side, even an otherwise emphatic individual can find themselves entertaining certain thoughts,
find themselves willing to look away.”

  “Still…” Sophia trailed off, filling the room with silence save for the clatter of keys and the gentle hum of small fans. Several minutes had passed by the time Sejit finished reading.

  The girl’d been thorough all right. Every connection made sense. It was enough for her to act upon, although she wished the latest updates had been more recent. And pointed to him having been anywhere else. Three years ago was both an incredibly short amount of time and an eternity, and, of course, it had to be in Jvult, the capital of Coanphany.

  Sejit leaned in her chair and spun a pen between her fuzzy digits. Ifon wasn’t the sort to collaborate with Hu’phed, or at least he hadn’t been in the past. Given the assassination of the Julian, however, it was a connection she couldn’t ignore. It wouldn’t take much for him to glean that Tess had been behind the shooting. If anything, he’d already deduced as much. That damn show-off, she should’ve known to use a standard rifle and take a shot from somewhere closer.

  Things were beginning to fray, and if she wanted to stop the whole yarn from unraveling, she’d need to act fast.

  “Hey, Sejit?”

  “Yes?” The lioness responded, snapped from her thoughts.

  “Do you resent people, too?”

  Sophia’s gaze had fallen upon a goddess-sized poleaxe, gleaming in its display case.

  “Does a shepherd resent the straying flock?”

  “Uh. Maybe?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Why are you always so mysterious?”

  “To better aid your understanding,” Sejit said as she turned off the monitors.

  “Understand what?” Sophia grumbled before perking up, “Hey, that reminds me, you still haven’t told me why you accepted my parent’s request.”

  “You have not told me why you accepted their request, either.”

  Sophia bolted upright and fire flickered in her eyes. “I’ve told you a bunch of times! I thought it’d be neat, and I wanted to see for myself that you were a goddess like my parents said.”