Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

The man cleared his throat. "No, of course not."

"Besides that, it will give us a place to assemble and prepare without anyone knowing that we are all right there, just on the other side of a thin veneer of marble."

He dipped his head. "I will see to it at once, Sister."

Nicci felt sick. Once that opening was covered with marble slab the Order would be able to gather a sizable assault force veiled from those in the palace. No one would know that the enemy had found a way in. They were expecting the Order to have to finish the ramp before they could attack. The defending forces within the palace would be caught off guard.

A jab of pain started Nicci moving again. Sister Armina guided her with that pain, rather than simply telling her where she needed to turn. They walked down endless corridors, all made of stone block and with barrel ceilings, that seemed to connect clusters of rooms and networks of corridors.

As they rounded a corner, Nicci saw a knot of people in the distance lit by torches. As they got closer she saw a ladder ascending into darkness. She had long since understood where they had to be, and where they were going.

Royal guards had massed around a place broken open in the barrel ceiling. These men were the elite. They knew their business.

At the thought of what was up that ladder, Nicci feared her legs might give out.

One of the royal guard, who obviously recognized Nicci, stepped aside, never taking his eyes off her.

"Start climbing," Sister Armina said.

CHAPTER 22

Nicci emerged into what appeared to be a vast pit gouged into the ground of the Azrith Plain. She couldn't see what was up beyond the dirt and rock walls, but she didn't need to see it to know what was up there.

Out past the rim of the pit, the imposing ramp, lit by torches, rose up into the cold night sky. In the distance the dark shadow of the plateau that held the People's Palace, looking like it touched the stars themselves, towered over the dirt and gravel ramp.

The floor of the pit was a confusing maze of various elevations, apparently the result of different gangs of workers laboring to scoop up material for the ramp. Those workers were nowhere to be seen. It had to be that when they were digging in the area where she stood they had discovered the catacombs.

While the laborers may have been long gone, there were now soldiers everywhere. The ones she saw weren't regular Imperial Order troops, who were little more than an organized mob of thugs. These were the professional soldiers, the experienced men closest to Jagang. These were the trusted core of men who had fought with him in various campaigns over the years.

Because these were men who had always been closest to the emperor, Nicci recognized many of them. Although she didn't see any individuals she knew by name, she knew many of the faces watching her. These men all recognized her as well.

A woman like Nicci, with her fall of blond hair and shapely figure, hardly went unnoticed in the Imperial Order camp. More than that, though, she was recognized by every one of these men as Death's Mistress.

They knew her by that name because she had in the past commanded many of them. They feared her. She had killed some of their comrades who had failed to follow her orders in the way she had expected of them. Belief in the Order called for selfless sacrifice for the greater good-the sacrifice of this life for the afterlife-yet when she had brought that righteous sacrifice upon them, ushering them into their longed-for afterlife, the very core of the beliefs for which they fought, they hated her for it.

Every one of these men also knew that she was Jagang's woman. In a movement dedicated to the greater good over individual rights, to ideals of absolute equality of all, he enjoyed making it clear that she was his personal possession.

Like the common soldiers, not one of these men ever dared to touch her. Jagang had in the past, however, given her as a favor to some of his inner circle of officers, men such as Commander Kadar Kardeef.

Many of these men had been there the day Nicci had ordered Kardeef burned to death. Some of them, at her command, had helped tie their commander to a stake and put him over the fire. Despite their reluctance, they dared not contradict her orders.

She kept her previous status in mind as she stood in the frigid night with all eyes upon her. Like a protective cloak, she once again wrapped that former persona around herself. That image of her was her only protection. She held her head erect, her back straight. She was Death's Mistress and she wanted everyone to know it.