A Soldier's Life-Chapter 240: The Archives

Chapter 240: The Archives

I remained leaning against the outer wall of the shrine to Juno for an hour. Loitering was normal in cities, and I made a show of being indecisive about entering the temple. Three more people came in to donate silver and request a blessing from the acolyte, but no one came up the secret stairs. With evening approaching and rain likely, I headed for one of the two inns in the upper city. I passed on the Affable Lips in favor of an inn called the Eagle’s Nest. I told the keeper the same story I told the guards: I was waiting for my trade caravan to catch up with me after they diverted to another town to pick up goods.

The room was nice, if a bit expensive. It was on the third floor and had rare glass windows overlooking the upper city, with a private balcony that faced one of the larger squares. After securing the windows and doors, I lay in bed and thought about getting into the Archives.

Getting in wasn’t the issue. I could create my own access and move into the subterranean network. Destroying the blood samples was going to be difficult without getting caught. If any of the Hound guards spotted me—I’d have to kill them. I didn’t see any way around it. Hopefully, they thought I was already dead, but even disguised, I couldn’t risk the Empire knowing it was me.

I lay there, turning over the moral dilemma in my mind. I assumed as many as six Hounds were stationed here, including Corvus. If they were Centurian Sergius’ loyal men, they probably lacked morality anyway. And didn’t Zyna say one of Sergius’ Hounds got Livia killed? Was that a veiled warning not to trust Sergius? My moral compass shifted to assuage any guilt I might have for what needed to be done.

I took out the last non-affinity essence in my space, having already consumed the strength, coordination, and endurance essences on my trek here. I tossed the pink apex empathy essence in the air, over and over, mesmerized by how the glowstone light reflected off the sphere. I was reluctant to consume this one. Would it enhance my already troubled conscience? I had grown up being relatively selfish, and all my serious girlfriends confirmed this when we inevitably broke up with me.

I nimbly rolled the ball across the back of my fingers and sighed as I placed it into my mouth. It dissolved, spreading a sticky sweetness down my throat and into my brain. My face went flush, and my thoughts muddied for a short while.

When the essence completed its work, I had hoped it would somehow change my mind and pull me from my path. Konstantin had advised me to burn it all down—Zyna had hinted I should forget the task and just flee. I didn’t understand the underlying politics, other than that the Archives were a Damocles’ Sword the Emperor held over the powerful First Citizens and mages. The blood could be used in ritual magic to target an individual or given to a Hound to track you anywhere.

The essence did not sway me from my chosen path. I was still committed and most likely fated to kill at least some of the Hounds guarding the Archives.

I didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning in short bursts of sporadic sleep and vague nightmares of being drowned in blood and hunted across all of Desia. I should have used an oblivion pill or the amulet, but that felt like cheating—avoiding my moral ambiguity. I rode out my sweaty, incremental sleep.

I had a small breakfast in the common room before walking through the city to look for other access points to the tunnels beneath it. The walled city was only about a square mile, but the deep network extended far beyond, even outside the walls, though most of the deeper passages were sealed. I guessed the city housed ten thousand people, with twice that number living outside the gates. I spotted a few legionnaires but no legion mages as I explored the shops, pretending to browse while using my earth-speak ability.

The other interesting thing I discovered was a second entrance guarded by an unremarkable man I assumed to be a Hound. Near the east gate, there was a barber shop, and at the back, I found a secret door in the floor that led to a ladder accessing the tunnels. The only areas of the city I had been unable to explore with my earth-speak pulses were the Citadel and some of the large First Citizen villas outside my spell form’s range.

My exploration also helped me formulate a plan to access the tunnels. An old woman who ran a general goods store in the lower city happened to have a large number of lamp oil casks in stock. She also had one of the access points to the network beneath the city in her deep cellar. Ten feet of solid stone blocked the access, but I figured I could clear it in time. The plan was simple: break in, take the casks, enter the deep tunnels, locate the Archives, and burn everything tonight.

Late in the day, I sat eating noodles with diced vegetables when six small blocks of soldiers marched through the streets as a light, cold rain began to fall. They were guarding six of the Emperor’s Heralds. It was clear they were here to disseminate important news. I raced back to my room to listen from the safety of my balcony in case their announcement caused a mob to form.

Heralds were used to spread news of the Empire in plazas, and thousands of citizens squeezed together while twenty-five soldiers protected each assigned herald. The fact that they weren’t guarded by legionnaires but regular soldiers was noteworthy, indicating a strain on resources. Curious about the news, I leaned over my balcony to listen.

The blond-haired, well-groomed herald was patient as he waited for the crowd to grow. I assumed this same scene was playing out at five other locations across the city or just beyond the gates.

When he felt the crowd was sufficient, his voice boomed—amplified by a spell form or artifact—silencing everyone. “Citizens of the Telhian Empire, I bring you news of the war in the east against the malicious Bartiradians, the deceitful Elves of Esenhem, and the devilish orcs of the Boutan Caliphate.”

His words hushed the crowd as everyone strained to hear.

“Know that your Emperor, Maximus Augustus Severus, High Mage of the Void, Shield and Sword of the Majestic Telhian Empire, has successfully stopped the Esenhem Elves’ advancement on Caranhagan, and he has personally slain two of the ancient Elven High Mages on the field of battle!” The crowd stirred at his words, murmurs growing—but no one cheered.

With a more resigned tone, he continued, “Unfortunately, Duke Tiberius has failed to stem the endless tide of cursed Bartiradians across the Eastern Border. And as of yesterday morning, the army of the Supreme Cleric of the Boutan Caliphate, led by their greatest Warlords, has assaulted the great Telhian city of Varvao!”

Murmurs erupted, growing in volume.

The crowd was stunned for a moment, then dozens of voices burst out. As the questions mounted, the herald raised his voice to continue over the din. “The Emperor is calling on every able-bodied citizen to join the effort to defend your Empire and Emperor!”

“What about the goblin horde?” someone shouted above the chaos. I backed away from the balcony, sensing the anger rising below.

The Imperial Herald ignored the question and continued his script: “Any able-bodied man will be given fifty silvers immediately upon joining the army, in addition to three silver a week.” This caused a ripple through the crowd. Young men not yet conscripted suddenly saw a way to leave their families a substantial sum. I doubted they would ever see the three silver a week—at least not until the campaign ended, if they even survived.

I retreated from the balcony and locked the doors. I doubted the orcs had just reached Varvao yesterday. The armada I had tried to slow only had to sail fifty miles after I fled—and that was five days ago. I almost risked taking out and reading the message book but resisted the temptation in case Centurian Sergius could track it. The discontented crowd continued to pepper the herald while he pressed on, offering incentives for skilled soldiers and craftsmen. I prepared for my task tonight.

I changed into dark clothes, swapped out my sandals for earth drake boots, donned my black manticore cloak, belted on the magebane, and waited anxiously for dark. A few hours after sunset, I slipped unseen out the back of the Eagle’s Nest and made my way through the streets.

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The rain had intensified, heavy drops echoing on my hood. The press gangs didn’t patrol the upper city, and even if they did, I expected they’d give the young men a few days to volunteer and claim the bonus rather than be conscripted with nothing.

The streets were quiet in the somber city. I soon reached the alley behind the general store. The old woman lived above it. I removed the lock and opened the door as quietly as possible, slipped in, and shut it behind me. My cloak dripped on the floor, but the heavy rain masked the noise. Without night goggles, I had little light, so I felt my way to the small lamp oil casks and took all nine—each about five gallons. I placed a full gold coin on the shelf, more than twice their value.

The stairs to the basement were stone, and I risked pulling out a glowstone after shutting the door behind me. My earth-speak returned only a cat, perched atop some shelves, its yellow eyes studying me. Everything was coated in dust—only cat prints marked the floor.

I approached the cream-colored cat, which soon pressed its head into my hand, eager for attention. “Good kitty, not a single rat on your watch. Just do me a favor and remain quiet while I work,” I said as its purring grew louder.

“I bet you’re hungry for both attention and food.” I placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the floor for the skinny feline, who attacked it ferociously, its grinding purr somehow playing through its mouth as it engulfed the offering. It was one less breakfast I had prepared, but the cat needed it more than I did.

I moved to the back wall, and the cat followed after finishing its meal, using my legs as a rubbing post. I searched again with earth-speak and confirmed this led to the sealed network of passages. I created a narrow two-foot-wide passage, four feet in height, moving the stone into my dimensional space and then to the rarely used basement storeroom.

When the final stone was removed, stale air rushed out of the tunnels, and the door to the cellar rattled from the pressure change. I hadn’t traced any of the narrow air shafts I had come across in the city, but it was obvious some were still functioning, pulling air into the network of passages. My heart raced as I covered the glowstone and listened. I didn’t want to seal the tunnel behind me in case I needed a quick escape.

I listened for a few minutes, confirming the shop owner was not coming down to check on the noise. The noisy rain was now a blessing. I entered the passage, and the cat dashed into the tunnels, probably searching for prey. I just hoped it wouldn’t get itself killed. When I explored the city depths yesterday with my earth-speak pulses, I’d noticed a few slimes and large rats in the sewers. These tunnels below the sewers had only a few monstrous rats.

The walls of the tunnels were solid stone—no seams—indicating they may have been carved out by hand or magic. Only rat prints dotted the dusty floor. No one had come this way in a long time. I was surprised no water had permeated these tunnels from the sewers above. The walls, floors, and ceiling were limestone, and the maze of passages seemed to go on endlessly.

As I descended a sloped passage, I was soon out of range of the streets above. The layers of passages seemed to extend deeper and deeper, with no end in sight and large empty rooms further below. The whole complex started to remind me of an ant colony. Navigating the passages was markedly easier with earth speak, which allowed me to map a large section at a time. I moved toward the upper city and the access point the Hounds used in the shrine. The only obstacle I encountered was a thick iron gate blocking access to that area.

The lock was well-oiled, but I didn’t need a key—the entire lock disappeared. I started to move more cautiously, as tracks from men were now evident in the dust. I finally found a chamber deep below with life. A large room appeared to have beds and living accommodations. I detected only two men inside, both sleeping, but there were two dozen beds, which gave me pause. I figured the room for the Hounds would be close to the Archives and searched for a way to descend to the inhabited room.

I had to circle back twice in the maze of tunnels before I found the stairs the Hounds had been using. These corridors were free of dust, and I got spooked when the old woman’s cat trotted up and dropped a large rat—half its size—at my feet. I bent down and praised the hunter. “You should go home with your prize. Things are going to get messy soon.” It ignored my advice and just purred while I scratched its ears. I wasn’t going to bottom out my aether to store the feline—it was free to make its own decisions.

The stairs corkscrewed down, and from the brightness of the limestone steps, these stairs were much newer than the rest of the complex. I no longer needed my glowstone, as the walls had their own stones at intervals, but I was pulsing earth speak more frequently as I descended.

Earth speak revealed a Hound at the bottom of the stairs long before he could see me, and I had no way to avoid him. I could retreat and look for a different access to these lower levels, but I had already been in the underground network for over two hours.

While I contemplated my next action, my feline friend darted down the stairs ahead of me, and I heard the Hound draw his sword. I heard a clang of metal on stone and thought the cat had stumbled into an early grave. I rushed down the stairs, drawing my blade and pushing aether into it. I found the Hound half-turned, facing off with the hissing cat and waiting for a second chance to strike.

I didn’t recognize this Hound, but when he saw me, he reached for a whistle around his neck. I lunged forward with my blade. He defended with his own weapon, but an air shield prevented him from parrying the magebane blade as I drove it into his sternum. I saw the confusion in his eyes as he tried to reach for aether to use whatever spell form he had imprinted. I angled the short sword to destroy his heart and extracted it, lowering him softly to the floor.

The cat had forced my hand, and I tossed it a sour look. I had placed a cat’s life above that of a Hound of the Empire. I was fully and truly a traitor now. Strangely, I didn’t feel the weight of guilt I had expected. The cat returned, unperturbed, and began to lick up the pooling blood. I pulsed earth speak again and found no one in range before retrieving the collector.

I searched his body as the collector worked. A lesser pale orange essence formed—the reasoning attribute, if I remembered correctly. I pocketed it. He had nothing else useful—no Hound artifact or other items of note. I dragged his body down the corridor out of sight. The pool of blood at the watch post was obvious, so I outlined the area with my space and removed the thin layer of blood and dirt. The cat spun in place, confused about what had happened to its meal.

I found the primary corridor leading to the large room where the two Hounds slept, but if possible, I would avoid adding any more unnecessary deaths. Moving quickly and quietly, I traveled down the corridor to a heavy door. A quick pulse of earth-speak confirmed both Hounds were still inside and had not moved from their beds.

I moved down a side corridor and claimed a block of stone that fit in the archway of the door. The block was a foot thick and blocked the door from opening. I frowned—it used up over half my aether due to the mass. I then cut the stone into smaller blocks so as not to leave evidence someone had moved something that massive.

I turned away, and at least the heavily traveled corridors were easy to follow. I descended further and found the number of chambers increased the deeper I went. These lower side passages had been walled off like the city access points above.

One of the sealed chambers contained a large number of bipedal exoskeletons arrayed in a circular pattern. They appeared to be some insectoid race, suggesting the Telhians had not excavated this underground network but instead killed the prior residents or claimed it after they died out. Figuring out that mystery wasn’t part of my purpose. I followed the heavily trodden path, the moronic cat plodding happily beside me like it was my partner in crime. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The glowstone sconces led me to the largest chamber I had come across so far. It was half the size of a football pitch, had dozens of glowstones keeping it brightly lit, and held rows upon rows of tall shelves. Small glass jars lined the shelves as far as I could see. In the brightly lit room, I caught movement among the racks and retreated back into the corridor.

A familiar voice echoed across the chamber, and I didn’t need to hold the blood compass to know I had found Corvus. His irritated voice carried. “Is that you, Appius? Come help me find jar number eleven thousand sixty-nine. Someone must have misplaced it, and it needs to be sent to the capital in the morning.”

There was no turning back—I had been spotted. I made sure no other Hounds were moving about in the massive chamber before stepping into it. I walked casually and unthreateningly toward Corvus, who was cursing as he searched.

I passed a desk with a colossal tome that looked to be a catalog of the blood samples and their locations. Before I reached Corvus, I heard him swear, “What in Pluto’s cock is a cat doing in here?” He looked up from my accomplice and noticed me. I was close enough—he could see me clearly now. There was no turning back now. He was shocked and seemed to stutter. “E-Eryk?! I thought you were dead.”

I replied calmly, forcing a friendly smile, “People often make that mistake.”

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