Chapter XVII

“Grand Inquisitor, a messenger has arrived.”

Only days earlier Yashen was training in that tower alone with four angels, one of whom was Sandalphon. Now Sandalphon and the other angels were hidden most of the time, coming out only when needed.

The watch-tower was now bustling with scores of new and returning believers, adherents to the True Way. Word of the slave uprising at the vineyard had spread like wildfire, and now escaped slaves, who previously had nowhere to go, were flocking to the Inquisition. They sought protection. They sought new purpose. The new witch-hunters trained in the field surrounding the tower, sleeping in small huts. New inquisitors trained within the tower, reading from copies of the Tome of Sandalphon, re-written in by the Archangel himself. Yashen had never dreamed that she’d be a part of something so important. As her servant approached her to tell her that a messenger had arrived, addressing her as ‘Grand Inquisitor,’ the true magnitude of the change that had occurred in the matter of just a few day struck her.

“Whose messenger?” asked Yashen.

“He says he speaks for the Vice Queen.”

For a moment Yashen cringed at the thought that the Vice Queen even knew where she was. She remembered what the queen of slavers did to her enemies all too well. But as she looked at the two men in crimson cassocks, each armed to the teeth, standing in the room with her, and the mark upon her arm she felt her fear dissipate. Even with all of the Vice Queen’s might what could that yammering churl possibly do to Yashen at this point?

Yashen gave a beckoning motion with her right hand. “Send him in.”

The Grand Inquisitor would have expected the Vice Queen to send one of her largest, strongest brutes to intimidate the young woman who’d started this revolution against her.

Imagine, then, her surprise when she found out that the messenger was a boy of only ten years. He wore around his neck a leather collar, and on his body a tattered tunic. The expression on his face was one that Yashen could only describe as dread, and his eyes were on the verge of tears. Only then did Yashen feel guilty about how intimidating she must appear in the eyes of visitors.

But she suppressed her pity for the boy’s situation and asked, “What message have you for me?”

“The Vice Queen sent me to tell you this…” the boy dug around in a small pouch attached to his belt. Soon he found a crumpled piece of paper, unfolded it, and read, “Dream Merchant, it seems that you’ve found a new manner of dream to peddle; a dream of freedom. You must realize that, like all dreams, this too must come to an end sooner or later. Those who never wake from a dream are the ones who died in their sleep. A foolish leader would allow the people under her watch to continue to sleep and die dreaming, but a good leader would wake them and tell them to live in the real world. What sort of leader do you want to be? Decide quickly, for I have many weapons in my arsenal.

“I know that you murdered an old man in Nox. Already I sent a single justicar after you. Though he failed, do not be so arrogant as to think that an army of justicars could not capture you. The True Way is a religion not protected under the Arxian Empire’s laws of religious freedom, and thus would be an easy target for the Justicars of the Father.

“Furthermore, the Arxians would be sure to act if they believed that the Inquisition was sure to rise again as a threat to peace. It would be all too easy for me to tell them of your people’s crimes against their masters. Do you think that even the fact that your people did what they did to escape slavery will dissuade the Arxians’ wrath at such vicious atrocities? Your enemies need only a few words from me and they will surely…I can’t read that word…” The boy stared at the paper, confused.

One of the witch-hunters in the room looked over the boy’s shoulder and read out-loud, “Annihilate.”

“Annihilate your pitiful rebellion,” the boy continued. “Return to Nox to serve me and I will ensure that you survive. I will not even punish those who left. Should you fail to do so you will surely be destroyed. Should you raise up arms against me I will…” the boy paused and bit his lip, “...I will throw this messenger into the gladiator pits to fight wolves…along with one-hundred of his peers…” the boy looked up at Yashen with tears in his eyes, and then continued reading. “If this messenger does not return home I will know your answer and will act accordingly. You’re a leader now, Dream Merchant. Will you be one who saves lives or one who destroys them. In the interest of keeping tradition, you will have three days to decide.”

When the boy had finished reading the message there was total silence in the room. The witch-hunters present exchanged glances with each other, the messenger, and their Grand Inquisitor, each hoping that someone else would say something.

Yashen knew it was on her to break the silence and make a decision. This was exactly the sort of moment Sandalphon had been training her for.

“What’s your name, boy?” she asked.

“Dominic,” said the messenger, shifting his feet. “Everyone calls me ‘Dom.’”

“Well, Dominic, looks like you’ll be staying with us. Fate has smiled on you this day, and the Inquisition welcomes you with open arms.”

“I can’t stay!” Dominic said, backing towards the door. “I have to go back! If I don’t the Vice Queen will do terrible things to me!”

“Sounds to me like she intends to do terrible things to you if you return,” said Yashen. “I can’t send you away, that would ensure your death. Please, stay here.”

“What about the other children?” Dominic asked.

“If we act quickly enough we can rescue them before the Vice Queen has a chance to raise a hand against them,” said Yashen.

“No! They’ll all be killed!” Dominic protested and fell on his knees. “Please…you can’t do this! All of those children will die in the pits!”

“I cannot afford to let fear and pity stand in the way of doing the right thing,” said Yashen, coldly. “The Vice Queen takes lives all of the time. If we have a chance to stop her for good we need to take it. Now, I insist that you stay with us, Dominic.”

“I’m not staying!” Dominic pushed himself back up to his feet. “Maybe if I return and tell her your answer she’ll be merciful…” Dominic turned to run out the door, but he found himself blocked by a crimson curtain. Two witch-hunters stood in his path, and both held out their hands against his shoulders.

“I insist that you stay,” said Yashen. “For if you stay here you will survive, but if you return to Nox you will surely die. Brothers, show him to guest quarters, if you would be so kind.”

“Yes, Grand Inquisitor,” both of the witch-hunters said, not exactly in unison. The two of them held Dominic’s arms tightly and dragged him off. Dominic knew better than to put up too much of a fight, but at the same time he had no intention of making this easy. He let his legs go limp and drag, which forced them to carry him the whole way.

Yashen stood from her desk and motioned for her attendant to follow her out the door. As the two of them descended down the spiral staircase in the hall, Yashen said, “Send our fastest and most discreet messenger to Nox, preferably a woman. Have her request some time alone to 'fornicate' with Kezib. Obviously, she will not actually fornicate with the gladiator, but rather will relay to him this message: the time to strike is nigh. The Inquisition will take the city of Nox, and those enslaved there need to be ready. Make sure he also knows of the Vice Queen’s threat to feed children to wolves. Hopefully he can stop that from happening.”

“Yes, Grand Inquisitor.”

Yashen came to the bottom of the long flight of stairs and gazed out upon the army training before her. The most physically-imposing of all her new witch-hunters practiced with wooden weapons and shields that were made extra-heavy. The skilled tailors sewed together the uniforms for the Inquisition; red cassocks for the witch-hunters, black cassocks for the inquisitors, and gray robes for all others. Smiths took whatever metal they could find, or whatever metal the newcomers brought them, and forged it into swords and spears. Some of the less physically-imposing freed slaves read from copies of the True Way’s scriptures, and tattooed upon each other’s arms the symbols used to conjure angels.

The army was coming along well. Surely the Vice Queen’s thugs would be no match for such a force. Yashen only worried that the city guard might be a problem.

The city guard of Nox. While technically they were all part of the Arxian military there was no doubt that most of them were in the Vice Queen’s pocket, and even those who were not would resist Yashen’s attempt to take the city. Furthermore the walls of the city gave them an advantage. Without proper siege equipment she would have to think of a clever way to get her forces into the city. Perhaps have angels carry them over the walls? No. They’d be easy targets in flight. Most of them would be full of arrows before they ever touched ground. A gladiator uprising inside the city would be helpful, especially with Kezib leading it, but she’d need more than that to ensure that the gates were open when her army arrived.

“Brew a dream.” The voice was that of Sandalphon. The deep, reverberating tones had long since changed from threatening to soothing in Yashen’s ears. “I will teach you the recipe. Once it is brewed give the potion to Gili. She has a mind for strategy and knows well the city of Nox.”

Yashen looked over at Gili, who sat sewing cassocks for the witch-hunters. Yashen stifled her laughter, knowing that to mock Sandalphon’s choice would certainly anger him. But how was it that a girl of only nine years would be the one to concoct the best strategy for them to take the city? Yashen could almost feel Sandalphon preparing to scold her for her doubts, though, so she said, “Let’s get to brewing this dream right away, then. We have very little time.”

Yashen spent the next hour brewing the dream as Sandalphon directed. She’d brewed many dreams for her new followers over the course of the past few days. Every time she ran low on supplies she sent foragers into the woods to search for the right herbs, flowers, and roots.

Once the potion was done Yashen approached the girl just outside of her tent. “Your name is Gili, yes?”

Gili dropped her needle and thread as she snapped up to her feet, as if standing at attention. “Aye, G-G-Grand Inquisitor,” she said.

“I need your help,” said Yashen.

“W-W-Whatever you wish, G-G-G-Grand Inquisitor.” The girl held both her hands firmly down at her side and her feet were pressed together.

“We need to discern the quickest way to besiege the city of Nox. The Archangel has selected you for this task.”

“I’m t-t-to lay s-s-siege to N-Nox?”

“No.” Yashen stifled her laughter at the thought of the nine-year-old storming the city walls and beating down the guards. “Actually, you are to come up with our strategy. Tell us how we should lay siege to the walled city.” Yashen held up the dream she’d brewed. “Drink this, and think about how you would conquer the city just before you fall asleep. The Archangel says that the answer will come to you in your dream.”

“In a d-d-d-dream?”

“He says you know the city so well you'll see its weakness.”

Gili took the glass vial in her hand and looked it over. “N-n-now?”

“Yes, this is urgent.”

Gili shrugged and downed the liquid in the vial. She stared at Yashen for a few moments, as if waiting for something to happen. Her eyelids started to inch closed, she yawned, and stumbled into her tent. Yashen looked inside the tent to find that Gili had collapsed onto her bedroll, so Yashen pulled the covers over the girl to help her sleep more soundly.

“Our future is in your hands,” Yashen whispered before closing the tent's flap.