Chapter VI

And so it went on like that, taking Reclamations as Simun healed. It was strange, really, following our normal steps with such strangeness as what had happened. I even managed to see Hym laugh and smile a few times, which truly unnerved me. I knew he could kill, yes- I’d witnessed it. But murder one of his own brothers to keep a secret? That was the first time it had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. And still, he managed to be happy. Things seemed to be normal.

And then, one day…

We rode off into the desert, out in the free air once again. The Earthbound sword slapped against my horse’s side, matching the rhythm of our gallop. We were racing at this point, racing against the other mercenary teams that were inevitably behind us. The Reclamation the other day had been assigned to us, and so we had gotten a head start before the other teams. This time… we wanted to be the best, and that required speed.

“You were in competition with the other mercenary teams?”

Oh yes. That was the way Cyphus’s overseers had decided to keep us active and ready for anything. With exclusive assignments, our men would grow lax. We would know exactly when it was our turn, and subsequently we would laze about when it wasn’t. Our leaders couldn’t have any of that, so they made every single Reclamation a competition.

“Seems… dishonorable. Not valorous at all.”

He laughs. I’ve told you, boy, that we weren’t soldiers. We were all dusty, old lechers with no care in the world except for money to pay our families and w****s.

“At least, before Hym.”

Naturally. That is the purpose of this tale, isn’t it?

The Reclamation was out far enough that we had enough time to surpass our comrades, and they were nothing more than specks on the horizon behind us. What really held my attention was the subtle bulging line in the sand underneath us.

Hym and Simun had explained it to me, but, even knowing about Duster abilities, it still seemed extremely strange. Simun was tunneling beside us, collapsing the tunnel behind him and listening to the thundering of our horses’ hooves to know where to follow. It was convenient and extraordinary, considering he’d only been healing from that wound I gave him for a fortnight or so.

“What? He was rushing with you on Reclamation with a barely healed wound?”

That was my reaction when he began to follow us. He just gave me a look when I went to stop him.

“I’ve lived in slave pens all my life, mercenary,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if it was disdain or pride in his voice. “I’ve done more work with worse scratches than this.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh trust me, mercenary.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and flexed his fingers. “You’re going to want me with you- not all of the escaped slaves are going to be as courteous as I was.”

I snorted at the memory as I watched him burrow like a mole through the sand. This man had more strength and resolve than all of the mercenaries in our camp combined.

“We’re coming up onto the escaped!” Jems shouted. “Be ready. This Reclamation isn’t normal, so I wouldn’t expect our quarry to be either.”

“I agree,” I called back. “Draw your weapons and stay cautious.” I pulled my Earthbound sword out of its sheath, hefting the warm… material in my hand. This thing was made of mud? It was still hard to believe, even after training with it for two weeks. Alchemy was an enigmatic science, to be sure, but even this seemed out its capabilities.

A shrill whinny and the scraping of hooves on sand slapped me out of my reverie, and I pulled harshly on the reigns, sliding to a stop. The rest of the company did the same, and we all stared at the escaped slave.

He was sitting in the sand with his eyes closed, meditating. He didn’t make any sort of movement as we approached.

“Slave!” Jems shouted, as all the mercenaries had been instructed to do. “Get up!”

“Why would I do that, son of Zybidi?” the slave shouted back, not moving a muscle. “You won’t do anything to me.” We all gasped, but not at his obvious defiance. We were stunned because he knew exactly who Jems was.

“How do you know my father’s name, worm?” Jems growled, walking closer to the slave and brandishing his sword. “Answer truthfully- I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“No you won’t.” The slave opened his eyes and stared Hym. “But he can.” With a quick gesture, a tendril of sand shot up at Hym, who waved it away before it could even come near him. “He is the one endowed with Aio’s power.”

“Aio?” Jems laughed. “Not only are you a Duster, but you’re a pagan.”

“Who you believe created this world is irrelevant, son of Zybidi. What is important is that god has commanded me to come to you.” He stood, brushing sand off his loose trousers. “Is that not correct, your Honor?” He walked to his right slightly and put a hand on the ground. Within an instant, Simun had popped out of the sand and wrapped his arms around the slave in an enormous embrace.

“Tomus, you rascal!” He laughed, pulling away and grasping the man’s shoulders. “How did you escape?”

“You proved that it could be done, my friend.” Tomus embraced Simun again. “With your example, the rest shall soon follow.”

“The rest?” I said, taken aback. “How many are there?”

Tomus sighed. “Not many, I’m afraid. There are seven more held in captivity, and they are under much higher watch than Simun or I was.”

“Wait, wait,” Hym said, jumping down from his horse. “Start at the beginning. This is strange enough without you talking in riddles.”

“How rude of me.” Tomus laughed and bowed comically. “My name is Tomus, budding jester and heady Duster. I am an escaped Jitdon of the slave pens of the Ring. I enjoy a good wine and not being beaten in the morning.” I looked at Hym, and snorted at his expression. It was like he didn’t know whether to laugh or vomit.

“Oh come now,” Simun chuckled. “Won’t you tell them your nickname? It’s quite ferocious.”

“That is not the way I would put it.” Tomus glared at him.

“You’re supposed to tell them who you are, my friend. That includes your faults too.”

“Fine.” Tomus sighed. “I am known to some unsavory individuals,” he shot a glance at Simun, who grinned, “as Didamis.”

“It means ‘little rat’ in Jitdonian.” Simun slapped his knee as he chuckled. “We always loved to torment him with it.”

“Well, that’s just fine,” Jems growled, slamming his sword back into his sheath. “But what are we supposed to do now? I’m not going to capture a friend of Simun’s, but I can’t very well explain to Cyphus why we came up empty handed.”

“Oh, no, Captain Jems.” Tomus held out his hands. “I came here specifically so that you could arrest me.” Silence engulfed us.

“And why in the bloody name of Lire would you want to do that?” I spluttered.

“Simple. I came so that I may assist your Duster friend, here.” He stared pointedly at Hym.

“Great.” I threw my hands up in the air. “Not only is he some sort of royalty or something, an entire extinct race is coming to bend the knee and wash his feet every ten seconds?”

Tomus looked at me before looking back at Hym. “A stubborn one, isn’t he?”

“I’ve tried to fix that quality in him,” Hym chuckled. “But it is surprisingly difficult to do.”

“Ah, no matter. I’m sure he isn’t as bad as some of the overseers I’ve had to do that.” Tomus rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Some of them were just to die for.”

“Wait… you make him sound like he had a sense of humor.”

He did. What of it?

“How is that even possible? After what he experienced?”

I suspect it was the only way for him to stay sane. Think about it. He had to endure absolute torment in the Ring, hurt and exploited at the hands of his masters. He had to watch his loved ones worked to death as he struggled to keep his eyes from closing during his shift. What are your choices in that situation? You can either accept it and slowly drift off into madness, or you can do what Tomus did, and laugh at every trial, every torture. It made him stronger and kept him alive so that he could reach us.

Jems retrieved the wrist shackles from his horse and slapped them on Tomus, looking perplexed all the while.

“Out of curiosity,” he said. “What exactly is your plan to get out of these?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Tomus’s grin was mischievous “You’ll find out soon enough.” He looked back at Hym. “I’ll be part of your group eventually.” Jems led him to our extra horse and helped him mount it. Maryk walked over to me and whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I will say this, mate. Getting three Dusters for the price of one is far more than I had ever expected.”

“I as well,” I said. “Tomus said that there were seven more of them in the Ring. Does that mean anything to you?”

Maryk shook his head. “Should it?”

“I suspect…” I scratched my beard. “I suspect that our squad may begin to grow at an alarming rate.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You heard Tomus. He said that he managed to escape because of Simun’s example. If my suspicions are correct, all the Dusters stuck in the Ring are going to start making their way toward our new Pontyff.” I nodded at Hym. “Our friend may soon find himself with a new following.”

“I don’t know about you,” Maryk said slowly, “but that would be amazing.”

“Amazing? Maybe.” I raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous? Definitely. Come on, let’s get back before people wonder what we’re doing out here.”

Lire above, your group numbers almost doubled in these very few short days.

What would you expect? Lire’s priests tell of Hym’s Disciples seemingly rising from the dust, appearing out of nowhere. Those first few days brought us three more brothers, and even though the flow would stop for the time being, there were even more waiting to find us. 

Although, on the same note, there were a few more less palatable individuals that I would be forced to work with.

You understand the procedure, correct? A Duster is found, captured, and sent back to the slave pens- but not before his presence is reported to the Four Thrones. And, of course, they send an Inquisition. I knew this, when we found Simun, and I wasn’t worried. We would be able to hide him in plain sight for almost as long as he could live. It wasn’t a problem. The problem arose when we realized the Company Inquisitor was obligated to assist the Royal Inquisition as much as he possibly could.

And you remember, of course, who Cyphus appointed as the head inquisitor. He pulled me aside as we walked back into camp.

“How is the investigation coming, oh head inquisitor?” He laughed and clapped me on the back. “Don’t worry if you haven’t turned up anything. I’ve brought you some help.” He pointed at a group of men standing on their own a few paces off. They weren’t from anywhere near the desert, if their black coats and pants were any indication.

“Who are they?” I asked. “They’re going to bake themselves in those outfits.”

“Yes, yes,” Cyphus sighed. “I told them that the usual uniforms wouldn’t really suit them out here, but you know how inquisitors are- always wanting to look fearsome.”

One of his words struck me a little more than it probably should have. “Inquisitors?”

Cyphus nodded. “One from each of the Four Thrones. I told you I brought you some help.”

I pulled him aside, hopefully out of earshot of the black clad men. “I don’t need help, Cyphus. I’m perfectly capable enough to find this Duster on my own.”

“Then where is the Duster?” Cyphus snapped. 

“You haven’t given me enough time. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“That’s why I brought them, beyond the fact that it’s standard procedure.” Cyphus lowered his voice. “Please, Pytyr, work with them. We need to find this Duster as soon as we possibly can.”

I sighed. I supposed there would always be a way to mislead them, though it would be harder than just fooling Cyphus. “Fine. Let them help.”

“Good.” Cyphus turned around and beckoned the men toward us. “I know that Royal Inquisitors can be a bit… arrogant, but if anyone had the temperament to deal with arrogance it would be you.”

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or a compliment.”

“Take it as both.”

I shook hands with the apparent leader of the inquisitors, a snide looking man with an air of superiority around him. “Welcome to the Bandjyt Desert, sir. I am Pytyr, the head Company Inquisitor.”

“Yes, I know who you are,” the man replied shortly, taking his hand back and holding it like it had been hurt by my grasp. “Captain Cyphus has briefed us already.”

“Quite a problem you have here, Pytyr,” a man behind him said. “A Duster found and escaped on the same day, and with help from one of your men?” He clicked his tongue. “I’m surprised at how well you’re holding up.”

“Well, anything is better than a Stingclaw, my lords.” The second man and I laughed, but the leader kept his stony expression.

“Now is not the time,” he said, “for joking.”

“Yes, Juedys,” the second man replied, bowing and backing away slightly. 

Their leader, Juedys, looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What have you found so far, Inquisitor? Anything useful?”

I blinked. “Well, I’m also a soldier here, so I haven’t really had the time…”

Juedys waved his hand. “I expected as much. What do you think? What are your instincts?”

“Well, he’s a Duster, right? He’s probably tunneling towards the edge of the desert. We saw him do it while we were trying to cap-“

“I suspect he is still in the camp.” Juedys interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “It’s highly unlikely that he could tunnel out.”

I didn’t like the way this was going- he was too close to the truth. “What makes you say that? Seems to me that would be the easiest way.”

“We consulted with the Alchemysts before we came here, sir.” Juedys pulled a scroll out of his coat. “From accounts of Dusters long ago, we learned that not even the strongest of them could tunnel for more than a few minutes. If he had been tunneling, he would have been spotted by the lookouts in the Ring when he came up to rest.”

“But why would he stay in the camp, where we could easily find him?”

“His accomplice, of course.”

I nodded, feigning realization. “So we just have to find the accomplice, and then we can find the Duster.”

“Precisely.” Juedys pulled out another scroll and gave it to me. “I’d like you to start interviewing your comrades, see if anyone seems suspicious.”

“What about my duties as a soldier? I could get called away at any moment.”

“Don’t worry about it right now, Pytyr.” Cyphus waved his hand as I objected. “You have a higher station now- I’m sure the Four Thrones can allow you to sit back on the Reclamations.”

I sighed. “Well, alright then. I’ll start as soon as I can, my lords.” I looked behind them, toward the medical tents. “But for now, I need to go visit someone important to me.”

Juedys nodded and bowed before walking away with his Inquisitors, leaving me and Cyphus standing in the dust.

“Well,” I said, after a moment. “You weren’t wrong about the arrogance.”

Cyphus chuckled. “I’m rarely wrong, Pytyr. You know that.” He clapped me on the back. “Now go visit your brother, maybe show off your blade. He might find it interesting.”

I nodded and walked away.