Shadow's Son by Jon Sprunk Page B

swallowed the light.
    "Levictus." Vassili made a show of looking over the latest plans for the
cathedral's baptistery. "You overheard?"
    The figure moved to the spot where Ral had stood only moments
before. His voice, though only a whisper, carried through the chamber.
    "Nothing remains hidden from the Dark."
    The archpriest reached up to touch the medallion on his chest and
forced himself to look upon the man's ruined features. Levictus winced as
candlelight reflected off the symbols etched on the golden surface, and Vassili allowed himself a satisfied smile. Sometimes a pet, no matter how
faithful, needed to be brought to heel.

    He jerked his chin toward the doorway through which Ral had
departed. "That one grows bolder every day."
    Levictus opened his left hand slightly, and then made a flicking gesture as if to say, The man is insignificant, an insect , but there was something
ominous in his gaze.
    "In any case," Vassili continued, "there is a more dire matter at hand.
Namely, your failure in Ostergoth. You assured me that your necromancy
could protect Reinard. I made guarantees based upon that assurance,
guarantees which are now returning to haunt me. The duke's brother sits
on the Council. He will no doubt demand concessions as a result of this
debacle, concessions that will cost me dearly. Well? What say you?"
    Still, Levictus said nothing.
    Vassili exhaled a long breath. He was tempted to reach for his medallion again. The sunburst sigil of the True Faith was perhaps the only thing
his servant feared in the entire world, having been tortured and scarred
under its standard. Yet he kept his hands on the arms of his chair. He
would show restraint.
    "For the love of the Light, man. What is it? Speak."
    "Have I not done all that you asked of me?" Levictus stood perfectly
still as he spoke, but the scars on his cheeks rippled with every word. "I
have spied on your enemies. It was I who discovered the old one's intentions, and I who silenced him. I have done all that you asked, to the letter
of your expectations. Would you agree this is true?"
    "Yes, Levictus. And forget not that it was I who saved you from the
Inquest's torture cells."
    Vassili would never forget that day. Twenty years ago, the Church
hierarchs saw the filth and immorality lurking throughout the realm and,
having secured the emperor's sanction, launched a pogrom to rid the
nation of its heretical pagan roots. The fanes of the old gods were rooted
out and destroyed, their priests imprisoned or slain on the spot along with
any others who refused to convert to the True Faith. Levictus's family was
among those swept up by deputized officers of the Holy Order of Inquest.
Vassili had been merely an ambitious praetor at the time. On a tour inside
the Inquest's dungeons, he'd noticed a particular young man. According to the jailers, his parents and brother had expired under questioning, but
this young man refused to repent, though he had been tortured for weeks
and was slated for execution on the next day. Vassili sensed something
special in this youth, as if their paths had been destined to cross. He used
his authority to have the prisoner released and took the waif into his own
household. Not long after, his new protege began to display certain
unusual traits. With time and study, Vassili realized the amazing treasure
he had unearthed.

    "Have I failed in any task you set before me, master?" Levictus
stepped toward the desk. "Or given less respect than was due?"
    The archpriest folded his hands within his sleeves. "No, Levictus. You
have served me faithfully. I do not debate it."
    "Then when, master? When shall I have my revenge?"
    There it was. Vassili chided himself for not seeing it sooner. He never
expected the man to forget the torments of his past, but sometimes it
slipped his mind. When he'd saved Levictus from the stake, he had promised the youth his vengeance against the Holy Inquest for what they had
done to his