CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Branded Men

 

Marcus and I followed the path from the rear of Malakai’s house to a large clearing, filled with tents. We stood at the end of the path, and I cast my eye over the multitude of tents. There were far more than I had been expecting. “Too much,” I said. “This is too much.” Several men with brands on their foreheads noticed us standing there. They talked amongst themselves but kept an eye on us. A figure moved between the men and came running to me. It was Kaleb.

“My prince,” Kaleb said. “You came early.”

“We won’t stay long,” I said. “We still have unfinished business. I came to see the men.”

“Not just men, my prince,” Kaleb said. “But I am sure they will be pleased to see you.” Kaleb took off, running back to those who stood watching, then left them to run between the tents. Within minutes, a large number of men—and a smaller number of women and children—stood waiting. A very large number, indeed.

“This is too much,” I said.

Marcus snorted.

Kaleb soon returned and stood expectantly beside us. “Kaleb, how many are there?”

“My count is one thousand six hundred and fifty-two,” Kaleb said.

I looked over the mass of people. My people.

“I think they are waiting for a speech,” Marcus said. My stomach knotted itself, and it felt as though my bones had turned to water. Public speaking was not a talent I had, especially when completely unprepared. “No time like the present,” Marcus said.

I realized I had been standing there for more than a minute. I cleared my throat. “Ah-hum… It pleases me to see you here.” I said. I scrambled for words and could hear a hush of conversation. I closed my eyes and thought back to my father and the way he’d spoken to his people.

“I am Saul Baz Sharmoun, prince of Ubrain. Your prince.” The crowd fell silent. “You have been shackled by the empire for too long. Now you are free, but our people suffer still. We must act to bring freedom to our people, to our land. We cannot stand by while the blood of our blood are chained like dogs. We will crush the vermin that shit on our land like it is their own. We will throw them from our homes, from our farms, from our cities. I will not rest until this is done!” The crowd went wild, and Marcus put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. I flinched. Over the past few months, any sort of affection from him was a rare thing, unless you counted too-hard punches, passed off as being playful.

“But…” I said, and waited for the crowd to quiet down. It took a while. “But, this is a big task. It is not one we can rush to. It will take time and preparation. It will take training. Were it that my brother Shakir, your rightful king, stood with us now, he would lead you in this. But he is not present, so this task falls on my shoulders. I have no training with the sword, the spear, or the bow. This is Marcus DeVasco,” I said, clapping Marcus on the back, deliberately hard, in a loud thwack on his sweaty skin. “You have met before, but allow me to introduce him to you. Marcus DeVasco, former rebel leader, and current rebel leader reborn. He is an experienced leader and a master with the sword. He will train you and make you ready to fight.” There was another cheer. “I will not throw you at the empire unprepared. I will arrange for weapons and supplies. These will be with you soon.”

My words ran dry, and as much as I racked my brain for more, nothing came. It felt as though I might drown in the silence. Then, like a breath of fresh air, another memory of my father’s words came to me. I took a deep breath and bellowed, “We are the lion that stalks in the grass! We rule this land unchallenged. We are Ubrain!” My people cheered and shrieked so loud it hurt my ears. Their voices rang through the oasis for a long time.

 

Marcus shook his head. “You surprise me, Saul. I spent years of my life organizing a rebellion. And it was a pitiful thing. You did this,” Marcus said, gesturing at the village that had formed in the oasis. “And mostly by accident. Though I’ll grant you that your tenacity is somewhat contagious.”

I sighed. “This task weighs heavily on me, Marcus. I am in no way fit for the job. We really need to find Shakir before I waste these men’s lives.”

 

Marcus left with Kaleb, and they made their way through the groups of men, stopping to talk with each. I strolled through the tents on my own. I had no idea where they had found so many tents. There were far more people in this oasis than in Sagemont. I noticed a few children swimming in a pool of water. Not many, especially not for a group of people this large, but it warmed me to see them nonetheless. People bowed as I walked past, and while I nodded in return, it made me distinctly uncomfortable. At least none approached me, which was good, as I feared I had spent all my good words. I knew if I said too much, my people would see through my disguise to the scarred monster beneath.

 

A couple of hours later, Marcus tracked me down, and we walked back to Sagemont.

“It’s quite the army we have,” Marcus said.

“Slaves without a master do not make an army.”

“These men are better trained than you realize,” Marcus said. “Many have military training. They are rusty, but they know what they’re doing.”

“That is good,” I said. “I doubt you will have enough time to train them all.”

“True,” Marcus said. “But at my last visit, I picked the best of them as leaders. They will continue the training in my absence, and between us, we will forge an army.”

“Why are there so many?” I asked. “Kaleb can’t have done it all.”

Marcus laughed. “He freed most. But no, some have led attacks on slave caravans on a road to the south. They freed the slaves and took the supplies. The oasis can supply a lot of food, but not that much.”

“Yes, we will need to supply them,” I said. “We are fortunate enough to know a merchant who deals with such things. I bet he can get us the weapons we need as well. We are wealthy men, after all.”

“Ah… Malvin,” Marcus said. “I bet he can.”

 

Later that night, Marcus, Neysa and I sat at the Bleeding Wolf with the plans of the palace spread out between us. Two tables were pushed together to give us enough room for all the plans. I did not have to look at the dates to know that they varied greatly in age. The oldest plan dated back more than four hundred years, had several rips, and was incredibly brittle. It was markedly different to the most recent one, which was itself approaching a century old.

“I don’t think these will help us much,” I said. “If anything, they show that the palace is constantly changing. I doubt even the emperor knows what the Gods-damned place actually looks like. Look here,” I said, pointing at a plan dating two hundred and fifty years back. “It looks like there was a hidden corridor along the main reception hall here. And yet it’s absent from the most recent plan. Either it has been sealed off, or the person who drew the new plan had no knowledge of it. We would be foolish to base our plans on passageways that may or may not exist.”

“You’re probably right,” Marcus said. He sat with his elbows on the table and his face in his hands, scrunching his cheeks together. His words came out as a mumble, and I could see the man had lost interest in the discussion. The talk had been going around in circles for some time, so I sat back and took a swig of ale. “I think we’d be better off observing the palace when we get to Morwynne. We’ll have to see if an opportunity presents itself. The only pattern in these plans is change. At least we have a fair idea of where the vault is, just no sneaky way of getting to it.”

“We should take the plans with us,” Neysa said. “They may yet prove their worth. That old bastard never does anything without a purpose.”

“Agreed,” Marcus said.

I laid the plans back atop each other, taking great care with the old paper. I squinted as I slowly rolled them back up, expecting to hear a snap in the brittle parchment. “Adair seems to be on top of things,” I said as I bound them with ribbon.

“I hate to admit it,” Marcus said. “But I think he’ll do a far better job than we ever could. He’s already streamlined our process significantly. The other staff members will take longer to find their feet, but he’ll get them there. Maria is a great cook, though.”

“She is. Don’t fuck her,” Neysa said. “Oh, don’t you dare try to look innocent. I’ve seen the way you look at her—keep it in your pants.”

“Fine!” Marcus said with mock outrage.