Sword of the Gods - Bruce R. Cordell [112]
DEMASCUS SNATCHED THE MAP FROM LANDREW’S TOPPLING body before the spurting scarlet touched it. The corpse thudded to the boards.
He sheathed Exorcessum and heaved the loose form of Tarsis back onto his shoulders. He closed Landrew’s door behind him, then swiftly carried his burden to Tarsis’s cabin. He laid the man out on the cot, and closed his bulging eyes with gentle fingertips.
“If Oghma wills, your sacrifice will see you back into the realm of life, my friend. If not, your reward will be great in whatever life waits for you beyond this one.”
A reward forever denied me, he thought. When death claims me again, no matter my deeds, I’ll just pop up again somewhere else, almost completely ignorant of my past unless I take pains to prepare for the transition …
Which he should probably do. Because he shouldn’t have slain Landrew. In doing so, he’d given all the more impetus to a metaphorical ore cart rushing down the tracks. Things were accelerating out of control … A familiar feeling.
Demascus left Tarsis’s cabin and secured the door behind him as he’d done to Landrew’s. The ship was chartered by the Orthodox Church out of Procampur, and the captain had worked with Oghmanytes in the past, and was a trusted ally. But Demascus didn’t know how he would react upon finding two of his four passengers slain.
He let himself into his own cabin. He sat down at the small table and set the map he’d retrieved from Landrew before him. With a flicker of concentration, he lit a candle and studied the map until he had the landmarks memorized. Then he fed it to the candle flame.
Demascus went to his chest. He pulled from it a small strongbox of dull metal. It was decorated with a relief sculpture of skulls and flower petals, and he wasn’t sure of its provenance. However, it was a uniquely secure coffer, and had a knack for turning up again even after apparently being lost beyond all hope for recovery.
The deva slipped off his golden thumb ring and placed it into the strongbox. Then all his charms, untangled from his braids one by one, went into the cavity. All except for the scroll-shaped charm he’d received from Oghma’s avatar. It seemed fitting that it, of all his collected charms, should remain with him, regardless of the risk to himself. On the other hand, the Whorl of Ioun he wore on his thumb was the most important relic to keep safe—all the others were mere decoration compared to its function. Though each of his deaths might rob him of the specifics of each job he completed, the Whorl of Ioun kept safe the continuity of his abilities. Each time he retrieved it, the full weight and knowledge of all his fantastic power became his to wield again.
He deposited a few oddments of less importance, but that could also serve as minor remembrances, into the strongbox, then closed it. The eyes on the skulls glowed a moment, then lapsed back into somnolence. Then the coffer faded from the world.
Other than Oghma’s symbol, he had kept only the Veil and Exorcessum.
If everything went well and he concluded his contract over the next few days, he’d return to the ship and retrieve everything. If the worst happened, then this odd strongbox should one day find his next incarnation. He’d reclaim his set-aside treasures, as he’d always done, and so return to him all he had once been.
Next he penned a quick note to the captain of the chartered ship. The document explained that an assassin had come aboard, and killed two priests before Demascus had become aware of the intrusion. He described how he’d chased the assassin away, and now went to track the killer down.
The note was terse and not especially informative—about right for someone in a hurry to go after a killer, Demascus judged. He sealed the note, quit his cabin, and gave the message to the first crewperson he saw, with instructions to deliver it to the captain straightaway.
That’s when he remembered Brenwin. What would the lone remaining priest think when she discovered her compatriots murdered and himself missing? He didn’t have time to explain to the woman what had happened,