“You must give us more of a warning next time,” I said. “We need to know in advance where the next member will appear and when. If you don’t give us enough warning, the Draziri will get them first or we may not be able to retrieve them in time.”
“I will try,” the Hiru promised. “My people are trying to make sure the Archivarius is safe but matters are complicated. They are in hiding.”
And any appearance of the Hiru would draw the Draziri like moths to a flame.
“We are about to review the information about the Draziri who attacked us. Will you join us? Your input may prove valuable.”
The Hiru didn’t respond.
I waited. I had a feeling he wanted to stand right here and guard the tank.
“I will,” he said finally.
I led him back to the front room and watched everyone attempt to keep their stomach contents where they belonged. He stopped in a corner, away from everyone. Orro watched from the kitchen doorway. Her Grace sat in her usual chair.
“We’re ready now,” I told Sean.
“His name is Kiran Mrak za Ezara za Krala-Kric,” Sean said.
“That’s a mouthful,” Arland put in.
“The Draziri society is segregated into flocks,” I said. “The flock usually consists of the leader and his family and the retainers who choose to serve them. The greater the leader, the bigger the flock. Some flocks have thousands of members, some only a dozen or so. The name translates into ‘Kiran Mrak, the First Bird of the Flock Something’. I don’t know that last word.”
“Wraith,” Sean said.
“High aspirations,” Maud said.
“The name was chosen long before Kiran was born,” Sean said. “He controls about three hundred families and a force of roughly two to three hundred mercenaries. He could have many more, but he’s selective in his hiring. It’s not a big flock, but it’s a wealthy one,” Sean continued. “Flock Wraith plays dirty. Kiran took it over from his father twelve years ago, and he’s been busy.”
“What is the nature of his business?” Arland asked.
“Arms dealing, espionage, but mostly assassinations. That last one bit him in the ass.” Sean glanced at me. “Turn the page for me?”
“Next image,” I said.
A new Draziri appeared on the screen, this one old, his skin sagging and wrinkled, his long feather-hair a dark crimson. A gold design was etched into his forehead, a stylized shape of a bird with four wings spread.
“An onizeri?” I murmured. “He killed a high priest?”
Sean nodded.
Wow.
“I thought their society was a theocracy,” Arland said.
“It is,” Sean told him. “The high priests are guarded so well, they’re almost impossible to kill. When contracts on them pop up, the price is always outrageous. Usually nobody takes the bait and if someone does, they don’t come back.”
“So, he’s a renegade,” Caldenia said.
I startled. She had been so quiet, I forgot she was there.
“I didn’t know Wilmos dealt in assassinations,” I said.
“He doesn’t,” Sean said. “He deals in mercenary talent. He doesn’t walk in the shadows, but he knows where to look. Kiran Mrak has made himself quite a name in certain circles.”
“How much money did he make from that kill?” Maud asked.
“Enough to buy a lot of expensive toys,” Sean said. “But I don’t think he did it for money.”
“He did it out of pride,” Caldenia said.
Sean nodded. “He’s the only one on record in the last two hundred years who managed to pull it off. The last assassin who succeeded before Kiran was named Rookar Mrak za Ezara za Krala-Kric.”
“A relative,” Caldenia said.
“Great-grandfather,” Sean said.
“So it’s a family tradition,” Arland said. “Once every couple of generations they kill a holy man just to dissuade anyone from thinking they've wavered in their commitment to crime, murder, and blasphemy.”
“Pretty much,” Sean said. “Some of the families have been with the flock for generations. They’re very good at what they do. What I killed out there tonight was hired muscle. There was only one member of the flock among them and he left me a reminder to take them seriously.”
“In short, we’ve been targeted by a Draziri crime syndicate specializing in murder and willing to assassinate their own priests.” This was just getting better and better.
Maud leaned back and laughed.
I looked at her.
“You don’t do anything halfway,” she said.
“Question.” Arland raised his index finger. “Is he excommunicated?”
“Apparently, the Draziri don’t excommunicate, they condemn,” Sean said. “There are only two ways a Draziri can get into heaven and receive his wings in the afterlife. One requires an exemplary life and a lot of financial contributions. The second requires—”
“Death of a Hiru,” the Hiru said quietly.
“Yes,” Sean said. “Kiran is officially condemned to hell where, according to the Draziri holy texts, he will fall into darkness for eternity while snakes of fire rip his body to pieces, feeding on his insides. Everyone within his flock is condemned with him. All his followers, their spouses, their children, everyone is going to a bottomless hell, unless the flock kills a Hiru. If they manage to murder one, every member of the flock, even those who already died in pursuit of the Hiru, will be elevated to heaven.”