Free Blood of the Emperor by Tracy Hickman Page B

abandoned parchment receipts—had done a thorough job considering the apparent haste of his departure a few days before the Army of the Prophet had arrived. Now that the army had finished ransacking the building, all that remained was the empty shell of the structure.
    Drakis stepped into the large, open space, peering into the deep shadows of the room and wondering if the goblin would appreciate his building being restored to him cleaner than he had left it. The goblins had been instrumental in getting word to the townspeople in advance of his army’s arrival and to his relief the town was emptied of everyone except the occupying elven garrison before the assault had begun. Word had reached him that the town’s citizens were already turning around from their flight and returning to the port to take up, once again, the only lives they knew.
    Drakis sighed. Life is so often a matter of momentum, he reflected. Would he have felt more justified in this sacking of the town by his army if the motives for doing so were more pure? The people who made their homes in Port Glorious knew better. The Army of the Prophet could tell themselves that they were liberators, freeing thetown from the oppression of the elves but the truth was that they needed the food and supplies the port trafficked in and so they had come and taken it. The people who called Port Glorious home knew enough to stay out of the way between two armies and were now returning, substituting a new set of masters for the previous set of masters. They did not feel liberated so much as cautious about whether the change would help them or hurt them.
    We are the masters of sky and light
    We are the doom of the night
    Dawn we are seeking
    Dawn and awakening…
    Drakis shook his head. The song of his dragon Marush often intruded on his thoughts at the most inopportune times and at such times made sense only after he could touch the dragon and know what Marush actually meant. It sounded like a triumph song but Drakis felt far from victorious. It was why he had come: to face down the Beast that had pursued him.
    Hearing someone enter the warehouse, Drakis pivoted around.
    “Ethis?” Drakis called. “Have you come alone?”
    Ethis held out both sets of his arms, his palms forward. “Drakis, there is someone who needs to speak with you.”
    Ethis moved to the side, revealing an elf.
    The elf Inquisitor stood not ten feet from Drakis, his Matei staff held casually across his body in both hands.
    Drakis slowly drew his sword from its sheath. “I’ve had a lot of practice with this blade.”
    The elf remained still, blinking his lids over his dull, featureless black eyes. The elf tilted his elongated head, nodding toward the sword in Drakis’ hand before he spoke. “Do you really think that would have made a difference?”
    Drakis glanced at the sword then fixed his eyes again on the Iblisi elf.
    “If I had any wish to harm you, Drakis of House Timuran, you would not be hearing my words now,” the elf said softly. “You would either be dead or halfway back to the Empire.”
    “Tell me your name,” Drakis said, his throat dry.
    “I’m sure you already know.” The elf drew back his thin lips into a sharp-toothed smile.
    “I want to hear it from you,” Drakis demanded, his sword still raised.
    “Proper introductions? I am touched.” The elf bowed slightly. “Then may I proceed. I am Soen Tjen-rei, Inquisitor of the Order of the Iblisi—or, more accurately,
former
Inquisitor of the Order of the Iblisi—and the elf who had been hunting you since the day you bolted from House Timuran. You’ve proven a most resourceful prey, Drakis.”
    “Somehow this is not helping me to feel any better about meeting you,” Drakis said far more casually than he felt.
    “But meeting you is precisely what I have been trying to do since you arrived,” the elf continued. “When I first heard of you just after the fall of House Timuran, my obligation was to my Order: it was my duty