Poisoned empire, p.1
Poisoned Empire, page 1
Poisoned Empire
Elyse Thomson
Two Laurels Press
Poisoned Empire
Copyright © 2023 by Lauren Thomson-Diks and Two Laurels Press
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews. The Author expressly prohibits the use of this work in any manner for purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies to generate text, including without limitation, technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this work.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at elysethomson.author@gmail.com
ISBN ebook: 978-1-7388426-1-2
Contents
Content Warnings
Glossary
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Afterword
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Content Warnings
For my readers who prefer not to read the content warnings, please feel free to skip this section and dive right in.
For my readers who would prefer a list of content warnings before proceeding, I've provided what I hope to be a fairly substantive list below.
Content Warnings: child death, death, blood and gore, maiming, torture, kidnapping, swearing, alcoholism, sexism, homophobia, classism, infertility, poisoning, consensual on-page sex.
Glossary
Royal Titles
Emperor/Empress: Supreme ruler of the Empire of Lethe, often co-rules with the heir to the throne. Addressed as Your Majesty.
Crown Prince/Crown Princess: Heir to the imperial throne. Addressed as Your Royal Highness.
Prince/Princess: Child of the emperor and empress. Addressed as Your Highness.
Prince Consort/Princess Consort: Fiancé(e) or spouse of a prince/princess. Addressed as Your Radiance.
Noble Titles in Descending order of Rank
Magister: Male governor of an imperial province. Addressed as Your Grace. Plural = Magistri
Magistra: Wife of a magister. Addressed as Your Grace. Plural = Magistrae
Dominus: Son of a magister. Addressed as Your Resplendence. Plural = Domini
Domina: Daughter of a magister. Addressed as Your Resplendence. Plural = Dominae
Illustrus: Male landowning nobleman with a significant estate and/or distinguished military service. No stylized form of address. Plural = Illustri
Illustra: Usually, the wife of an illustrus. Rarely, a landowning noblewoman with a significant estate and/or distinguished military service. No stylized form of address. Plural = Illustrae
Nobilissimus: Son of an illustrus or a minor nobleman with a small estate. No stylized form of address. Plural = Nobilissimi
Nobilissima: Usually, the daughter of an illustrus or wife of a nobilissimus. Rarely, a minor noblewoman with a small estate. No stylized form of address. Plural = Nobilissimae
Governmental Titles in Descending Order of Influence
Praetor: The head of the imperial bureaucracy. Answers to the imperial family directly. Directs all administrative officials in the Empire of Lethe.
Logothete: High minister in charge of a large administrative department (Taxes, Public Works, etc.), answers to the praetor directly.
Asekretis: Middling minister assigned to tasks or specific projects by a logothete. Answers to a logothete directly.
Notarios: Lowest ranked bureaucrat, assigned humble tasks by an asekretis. Answers to an asekretis directly.
Military Titles
Strategos: Top general of the empire’s military forces. Answers to the imperial family directly.
Knight: Soldier with specialized training who stands above common soldiers in rank.
Admiral: Top officer of the empire’s naval forces. Answers to the strategos directly.
Slang
Elemental: A mage with an elemental magical gift (water, fire, earth, air, light or darkness). Elemental gifts comprise the vast majority of mage gifts within Lethe, and are expected in all those of noble birth.
Elementalist: Elemental magic elitists who discriminate against those without elemental magical gifts (control of fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, darkness or light). They believe theirs is the superior form of magic.
Menial: A derogatory term for a mage without an elemental magical gift.
Feral: A derogatory term for beast mages.
Ignoble: A noble born without the expected elemental gift of their family bloodline.
To Paulina,
This one is for us.
Prologue
I’m not fast enough.
Nadia’s heart was sick at the thought. Babe cradled in one arm while the other hand gripped little Sylvester’s, she ran through the marble halls of a palace in flames. Still the child-devouring beast pursued her. Her baby wailed, jostled by the pace, while the tortured cries of soldiers rang out through the halls. Ashes of a thousand smoking tapestries choked her. The stench of burning flesh announced the grim tally of the dead and wounded. Neither she nor her child would have the strength to run for much longer. Even now she pulled on reserves she didn’t know she possessed, just to keep him from falling onto the blood-slick mosaic floors.
“Empress! Follow me!”
Nadia turned her head to see the young man she had recently selected to be her babe’s guard. Marduk was no more than a boy himself. She immediately turned to follow him, his dark, leathery wings and sharp horns a welcome sight. But her relief had slowed her. Already the beast was upon her, the heat like a dragon’s breath on her skin. Her palms were slick with sweat. This time when Sylvester tripped on the mosaic floors, his hand slid from hers. She was already steps away from him when she skidded to a stop. Before she could rush back to his side, Marduk grabbed her by the waist to drag her away.
A ring of flames trapped her boy. His screams tore the breath from her as his terrified hazel eyes vanished in a blaze of unbearable heat. Marduk pulled her resolutely, and she found she didn’t have the strength to resist him. He towed her along by her hand, his claws piercing her flesh.
Eudocia had been found first, her flesh cold to the touch, her sweet girl only just reaching her teenage years this past spring. As if hunting her babies like a sick countdown, the beast had taken Cyril next, just before the alarm could be raised. The twins, Xanthippe and Viktor, had died despite a heavy guard. Still the beast’s bloodlust had not been quenched. Even now, although it had torn Sylvester from her, it still coveted the very last of her children; her baby, Belisarius.
“In here, Empress!” Marduk pulled her through a heavy door to a storeroom, throwing it shut behind them.
She felt nearly outside herself as she watched the young, winged boy trying to fit himself through the opening of the small window. Thwarted, he ran towards the second exit to a set of servant’s stairwells. He threw himself against the doorway, but it wouldn’t budge.
“The escape is blocked. We must prevent him from entering.” Marduk looked to her, calm but resolute. “Can you make something sturdy to keep the door in place? We only need to hold out a little longer before the knights arrive.”
“I… Yes, I will try.”
Nadia’s hand shook as she placed it against the door. There was nothing living within the room but the three of them. She gave her crying baby to Marduk and used her bloodied hand to paint a line on the floor. Power flowed from her, and thick brambles rose up from her blood, engulfing the door as they grew. Vines had almost covered it when the plants stopped in their tracks.
“You cannot stop, Empress!”
“Something has happened! I cannot make it grow any further!”
Panic made her frenzied. She poured as much of her magic into the plants as she could, but they grew in fits and starts. All the while her baby wailed. Suddenly, an awful heat enveloped the room. Marduk pulled her from the door.
“Take him.” He handed her the baby then unsheathed his short sword, positioning himself between her and the beast at the door.
For a moment the heat seemed to disappear. Then it returne
Nadia met the beast’s eyes—eyes as red as rubies and as cold as a winter storm. Eyes she knew too well.
“Hello, Mother.”
Chapter 1
People were scum.
It was the rule that only proved truer the longer Selene lived. It was a fact she exploited to pay her way in the world. It was the mantra she would chant to herself at night when the faces of her clients—battered, desperate, hopeless—haunted her.
Still, there was one person who was exempt from that rule—Iliana.
“What have you put in your porridge?” Iliana wrinkled her nose.
Selene smiled at her companion. The simple wooden stool scrapped across the warped boards of the floor as she pulled up a seat across from her.
“Never mind. I’m not sure I want to know.” Iliana leaned away, grimacing.
“It’s a very rare neurotoxin I ordered months ago from the Emerald Province. First, it—”
“No, we talked about this. No more gory descriptions at the dining table.”
Selene shrugged her shoulders and downed her porridge. The benefits of being a poison mage were extensive. She could conjure any poison she’d ever touched, tasted, been stung by or otherwise introduced into her body. The best part was that it would never truly harm her. The worst was that the first time around she would suffer through a very mild version of the toxin for a short while. Well, that and social stigma, but she had long ago stopped caring for the opinions of anyone not named Iliana.
“Crap—paralytic!” was all she managed to say before her body tensed up, her spoon frozen in mid-air.
Iliana watched her with a bemused smile as she ate her toast and sipped her watered wine from a chipped earthenware cup, her finger tracing the deep grooves in the only table they owned.
“Remember when you ate the one that made you mute for a whole two minutes? Be nice if you could get more like that.”
Selene gasped for air when the neurotoxin was done working its way through her system, her magic neutralising its effects as the poison added itself to her repertoire.
“Sadly, ‘Silence is Golden’ is a one-off as far as I can tell. Top seller though, that’s for sure.”
Iliana shook her head.
“So, what are you going to name this one?”
“Hmmm.” Selene ruminated on it for a moment. It was very fast-acting. There were no unique sensations to the kind of death this one would deliver. It had sounded more interesting than it was. A pity. Best go for some whimsy if she wanted to earn back what it cost her. “‘Duck, duck, dead.’”
A knock on their crooked door interrupted them from their repast. Selene was about to stand, but Iliana put her hand on her shoulder and smiled. She was already finished eating her meagre meal.
“I’ll get it.”
Selene nodded as she shovelled the rest of her porridge into her mouth. Who had come to disturb them in their humble cottage? Rent wasn’t due for another few weeks, and Selene had already threatened the landlord’s son with a painful death if he tried to make eyes at her beautiful friend.
Selene leaned back on her rickety stool to see the face of the man in the doorway.
“Iliana?” he asked as she opened the door.
Iliana didn’t answer. In fact, her posture stiffened.
“I’ve just come by to, uh, inquire about the state of the cottage. Does it require repairs?”
“N-not since the roof was patched,” Iliana murmured.
“And I’ve had some complaints from the blacksmith that you’ve been using his forge.”
“He must have been mistaken.” Iliana gripped the door tighter.
Selene caught a glimpse of the man behind the door. Damn landlord’s brat, dressed in a brand-new tunic and gleaming leather sandals. He caught Selene’s narrowed gaze as he peered inside, swallowing nervously when she mimed slitting his throat.
“Very good! Just coming around to check on tenants. Rent is due in two weeks.” He stumbled over his words in a panicked rush as he backed away.
“Good day,” Iliana replied woodenly as she shut the door.
When Iliana returned to the table, she collapsed on her stool, an ashen cast to her usually tawny, bronze skin. She shakily pushed a few strands of platinum blonde hair from her face as her haunted sapphire eyes made contact with Selene’s.
“What’s wrong?” Selene asked.
“He called me Iliana.”
“And?”
“I’ve never told him our real names.”
“Shit!” Selene swore as she stumbled to her feet, nearly tripping on her threadbare skirt. “Get the goods and our coin. We’ll lighten our load at the market and head directly for the docks.”
If they didn’t sell at least a few more wares, they wouldn’t have enough coin to make it to the islands. Walking through the night to the docks would be gruelling, but if they waited around, it could get dire.
Iliana nodded, staring at the fire in the hearth, her hands trembling. The metals mage fingered the enchanted dagger she habitually kept at her hip and muttered a prayer to the forgotten gods.
Selene noticed the tick and hurried Iliana into the bedroom to pack.
Born a bastard as well as with a mage gift considered menial, Iliana, along with her mother, had been cast aside by her elementalist noble father for failing to breed true to his bloodline’s water elemental mage gifts. Magister Sapphire had feared she would bring shame in his elitist circles, and so he’d ignored her very existence.
It was Iliana’s loving stepfather who had taught her his blacksmithing trade, but the family’s fate had been sealed when Iliana proved to be too good at what she did. Whispers about her magical talents, as well as her uncanny resemblance to the imperially appointed governor in charge of the Sapphire Province, began to swirl.
Only luck had allowed Iliana to survive the flood he had sent to engulf their small village, stealing the lives of her mother and stepfather. The magister wanted the shame of her existence erased from the world, and Iliana had known then that her sole option was to spend the rest of her life fleeing and staying hidden.
It seemed the time had come to flee again. The magister had ferreted them out once more.
Stubborn prick.
Selene grabbed her sack full of small, sealed containers and began plucking her favourite poisons from the cupboard. She wouldn’t be able to carry them all.
A devious little thought came to mind, and she grabbed their precious ink and a few scraps of parchment.
Iliana soon returned from the bedroom, wrapped in a travelling robe and sturdy tunic dress with her case of enchanted wares slung over one shoulder. Built like some mythical heroine—curves like a goddess of love and the height of an average man—Iliana was striking no matter where she went or what she did to hide it. Selene, on the other hand, was a short, dark-haired, pale skinned waif who could blend and disappear into any crowd, so long as she kept her mouth shut. Only her purple eyes gave her away as anything other than ordinary.
“What are you doing?” Iliana asked.
“Leaving a few presents for whoever loots our cottage,” Selene answered.
Iliana trudged over, depositing Selene’s only robe atop her bulging sack of poisons. She squinted her eyes at the labels. Iliana, like Selene, was literate—a true feat for commoners—but her skills were rusty. Her true talents lay in enchanting metals, convincing them to be more than they were or to do the unexpected. Selene was better at conjuring poisons than enchanting them, but even she had a few tricks up her sleeve.
“Why are you re-labelling everything as sweet syrup?”
Selene gave her a winning smile.
“So that they’ll swallow it, of course.”
Iliana rolled her eyes and dragged Selene from her macabre prank.
“Come on. We don’t know when the magister’s men might get here.”
