Read Online Veiled Empire by Nathan Garrison - Free Book Online Page A

they both knew it.
    “What game are you playing at, sorceress?”
    “Whatever do you mean?”
    “Some conflict is unfolding to the east of here. Why should that please you?”
    She shrugged. “I’m on the way to my own execution, aren’t I? The empire’s woes are among the few things that can still bring me pleasure.”
    “So that’s it then? Are you just like every other criminal I’ve known, throwing empty defiance in the face of the justice when it finally catches up to you?”
    “Don’t talk to me of justice!” The words left her mouth like fire, and her eyes blazed, belying the charade. She took a deep breath before continuing. “You claim to serve its cause, but you don’t. You, Mevon Daere, know nothing about it !”
    Mevon had to stop himself from growling at her. “I’ll not have such words spoken to me. I know nothing, do I? My earliest memories involve lessons in the ways of justice. My devotion to it is unequaled among my peers. Ruul’s light, I named my scorching weapon after it!”
    She lowered her voice to a pitch Mevon almost considered dangerous. “Please. You kill because you enjoy it and enforce a cruel mockery of the term based on the whims and fears of your masters. You know not devotion, only blind obedience.”
    Mevon, his composure shattered, felt his jaw hanging wide. Nobody talked to him like this. And with such words as to drive even a gentle soul to violence, he truly, for one brief moment, lost control.
    Scores of heads turned to him, eyes wide, as he began laughing.
    It was not a gentle thing, nor was it devoid of hysteria. Perhaps two dozen beats it persisted, until finally he was able to bring himself, in increments, back under control. Jasside’s visage held to a mask of horror for its duration. Only as he wiped away moisture from the corner of his eyes did she also make an effort to compose herself. It didn’t matter. The deed was done, and Mevon now knew everything he needed to know about her.
    He looked into her eyes, holding them trapped. He searched her soul, and felt . . . nothing. “A few days ago, such words might have incited me to a regrettable reaction. Now? Just be glad I no longer feel the constant urge to snap your neck.”
    She made a sound very close to choking, then nodded—a gesture too meek to be part of her act.
    They rode together, a cloud of silence hanging between them. Their procession turned once to skirt the edge of the northern quadrant’s market square. Two more turns would bring them to their destination. Two more turns until he was free of her forever.
    Midway through the row, Jasside surprised him by speaking once more. In a whisper, she said, “Mevon, why do you fight?”
    He lifted an eyebrow as he studied her. She faced forward, eyes downcast, chin pressing towards her chest. What angle was she trying now? “You know why: justice.”
    “Yes, but why ?”
    “I . . .” Mevon shook his head. “It’s what I’ve always done, what I was born to do.”
    “To what end? What purpose does your justice serve?”
    “Isn’t that self-evident? Justice is its own end.” He swept his arm in an arc. “Look around you. Would civilization be possible without men like me standing between it and chaos?”
    “No. But, is it the order that you protect or the people within it?”
    “What difference is there?”
    She sighed. “Oh, Mevon, all the difference in the world.”
    Mevon shrugged.
    “You asked me to look around,” Jasside said. “Well, now I ask—no, I challenge you to do the same. There.” She pointed. “Look, and tell me what you see.”
    Mevon tilted his head in the direction indicated. “What? It’s just a few musicians playing to the crowd.”
    She forced a smile. “Is that all?”
    “Want me to write you an essay? What more is there to tell?”
    “I’ll tell you what I see. I see three men playing fiddle, skin-drum, and wood-flute. The song is lively. The fiddler is singing the melody. It’s about a shy, pretty