Seker sat on his throne and looked passively ahead. “Ah, a noble gesture to risk your life rescuing a comrade in arms, but how was he captured in the first place? In truth, you failed to defend Valihorn from your enemies and he was taken from you. Had you not failed in the first, you would not have been called on to do the second. I am afraid your noble act is nullified by your failure to defend Valihorn in the first place.” Jefon nodded his head knowing that Seker’s words resonated with truth. He and Evisar had tried to stop the bandits from taking Valihorn, but they weren’t strong enough. Seker pressed on with his next question. “Why were you looking for an entrance to the Underworld?”
“We were trying to find the First Heir of Armena and return him to the throne. We were told he was taken into the Underworld.”
“And who told you the First Heir was in the Underworld?”
Jefon didn’t see how this question pertained to the choices he had made in his life, but he dutifully answered the question anyway. “An ancient elf who came to visit us just before our exile from Armena.”
“Rescuing the First Heir of Armena from his captors and returning him to the throne would seem to be another noble act, but in truth you only wished to return the First Heir to the throne so you and your brother might return from exile. The first cancels out the second.”
As Jefon became more acclimated to his strange surroundings, he began to think more critically. What Seker was saying about the First Heir was partially true, but Jefon had thought a lot about his motivation on this quest. In his heart of hearts he knew he had initially wanted to find the First Heir in order to return from exile, but that was not what drove him any longer. The core of who he was now ached to find Devin and return him to the throne because it was the right thing to do. No one should be unjustly imprisoned.
Doubt entered Jefon’s mind for the first time, but he didn’t have time to think about it further as the God of the Dead continued. “Why did you aid the town of Wessex against the hill giants?”
Jefon thought for a moment and replied, “I wanted to help my friends, and innocent people were being killed.”
“Like most mortals you accept a lie because it is easier to accept than a difficult truth. Look into your heart and you will see you were scared to leave your brother and continue to look for the First Heir on your own. You stayed with your brother for selfish reasons, and not because you felt a need to keep others out of danger.” Jefon’s initial doubt turned into skepticism as he thought about what Seker said. To a certain extent Seker was correct, Jefon had been afraid to strike out on his own, but he had fought against the giants because he loved his brother and didn’t want to see him hurt, and because innocent people were being killed.
In the back of Jefon’s mind he began to wonder what kind of questions these were. What the God of the Dead was describing were noble deeds, but he was making them out to be selfish, evil acts. Jefon had only moments to think before Seker continued. “You recently killed Lord Shetley in cold blood after he surrendered to you. Why?”
To this question Jefon’s conviction was ironclad. “I killed Lord Shetley because he was holding his people captive, imprisoned in a web of grief and paranoia. My god demands that I strike down those who abuse their power, and Lord Shetley was abusing his people. I could do nothing less than what Martel demanded.”
Seker seemed to anger slightly as the volume of his voice increased. “Ultimately, you killed a man in cold blood and that is a strike against you.” Jefon’s skepticism turned into anger, but he kept his anger to himself. It was never wrong to follow the will of Martel, and this God of the Dead was wrong to suggest that it was. “Where did you get that pouch on your belt?”
At this question Jefon finally balked. The secrets Martel shared with him were for his benefit alone. He couldn’t answer the question. Eventually, Seker asked again, “Where did you get your pouch?”
Jefon held his head up and answered softly, “I … I can’t say, my Lord.”
Seker’s voice boomed painfully in Jefon’s head. “You what?” Seker turned his head and looked down at Jefon for the first time. His eyes seared Jefon’s soul, but he couldn’t look away as the pain grew with each passing moment. The eyes compelled him to answer the question, knowing the pain would only disappear if he answered. “Where did you get the pouch? Do you receive visions from Martel? Do you know what you truly are?”
“I … I.” Jefon couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold it back. The pain was too great. The only way to stop it was to answer the question. “I … I …”
Then another voice boomed through the chamber. “Jefon, do not answer the question.” The other voice made it possible for Jefon to break the gaze with Seker and look behind himself. Tristan and Xander seemed to be magically frozen in place, and beyond them stretched the darkness of Seker’s realm. Out of the darkness came a golden light that seemed far away. The light began to move forward until Jefon saw it wasn’t a light, but some sort of bird in flight. The bird flapped its wings as it flew forward through the darkness. As the bird moved closer, Jefon saw that the bird was in fact a falcon. Then, out of the darkness appeared Martel in all his glory. Although Martel looked like an elf and was plainly dressed in dark clothing, Jefon could not believe how beautiful he looked. He had a presence of power that could only be divine.
“Your plans will not succeed, Seker.”
“Bahhh. I figured you would come for this one. My plans have already succeeded. You think you can save the First Heir, but his death has already been preordained. There is no stopping it.”
“We will see. I have come for my follower, but before I take him, know that Nu will hear of your treachery.”
At the mention of the Overlord’s name, Seker cocked his head. “What are you talking about? I held your follower in purgatory as is my right.”
Anger flared on Martel’s face as he marched forward. “You do not get to question the souls that come before you until their god has forsaken his claim. I came well before the allotted time had passed, only to find you questioning my follower for your own benefit. You have broken the covenant; I promise Nu will hear of it.”
Seker rose from his throne and looked around the chamber. Jefon watched as demons, dracoliches, and all other forms of monster came out of the darkness and moved toward Martel. “I have done nothing wrong. Go before Nu and see if he gives a damn. Now take your follower and be gone while you still can.”
Martel did not take his golden eyes off Seker. “Gladly. Jefon, come to me now.” Without hesitation Jefon walked over and took his god’s outstretched hand. The contact sent a tingle up his arm. “Until we meet again, God of the Dead.” With this proclamation, Jefon and Martel disappeared.
Chapter 54: Wrongful Imprisonment
Consciousness returned slowly to Evisar, and at first he wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. Even after opening his eyes he wasn’t sure, for what he saw could only be a nightmare or the torture of some demon in one of the seven hells. He saw the blurry image of a cell with bars and an incredibly beautiful Krone with white hair and dark skin standing over him speaking words he did not understand. Next, the physical and emotional pain returned to him as he felt his open wounds and remembered the death of his comrades in the courtyard of the fortress at the hands of the wizard Gram. Finally, the memory of his brother being killed by Gram’s lightning bolt was enough to force him to alertness. He opened his eyes to see the shapely female Krone still standing over him, and he reacted on instinct, thrusting his fist outward and punching the Krone in the face. She staggered backward in surprise as Evisar quickly gained his feet and went reflexively for his sword. Finding himself stripped of weapons, Evisar threw himself at her, grabbing the Krone by the throat and lifting her against the wall. She tried desperately to speak or breathe, but Evisar was crushing her windpipe without mercy.
His lust for vengeance was interrupted as he looked to his left and saw four human guards raising heavy crossbows at him through the iron bars of his cell
. Valihorn came up on his right and said, “Evisar, let her go. She was only trying to heal your wounds.”
Outside the cell, the human commander held his crossbow up and spoke quickly. “Let her go now, or you die.”
Evisar held his ground as the Krone flailed violently against him, trying to breathe, trying to stay conscious. In one smooth motion, he took the Krone off the wall and slammed her into the cell bars, using only one arm.
Evisar looked at the Krone with hatred that went well beyond reason. “You killed my brother, you bitch!” The guards outside the cell gave up any pretense of discipline and maneuvered desperately, trying to get a clean shot on Evisar, but the cell was too narrow. They could not take the chance of accidently hitting the priestess. Realizing his success, Evisar continued to focus his anger on the Krone in front of him. “I may not be able to kill all of you before I die, but your death will be vengeance enough.”
Suddenly, Evisar felt Valihorn’s magic wash over him. He was unprepared for an assault from a friend, and he collapsed like a limp noodle to the floor, paralyzed. The Krone priestess landed in a heap at the foot of the iron bars and brought her hand up to her throat, coughing violently. Her coughing slowly subsided; she rose calmly to her feet, looked at Evisar with cold eyes, walked over to him, and began viciously kicking him in the gut. Once. Twice. Three times she kicked Evisar in the midsection.
Valihorn came to Evisar’s defense by jumping over his body and shoving the priestess up against the wall. The guards weren’t about to allow a repeat of what they just saw, so one of them fired his crossbow point-blank at Valihorn. Valihorn took the shot in the shoulder and fell over in agony.
Evisar groaned as the Krone regained her feet and moved confidently toward him, when a strong voice carried down the hall from the dungeon entrance. “Stop, Arun.”
The female Krone took one last step and kicked Evisar in the head, nearly snapping his neck, before looking up the stairs toward the dungeon entrance in disgust. “No one is allowed to touch me! He deserves to die.”
“Not until I get the information I need. Now, heal their wounds fully and step out of the cell.”
Arun looked balefully at Gram, considered defiance, and then moved to comply. She moved from Valihorn to Evisar with a dispassionate scowl, healing their wounds. She yanked the crossbow bolt from Valihorn’s shoulder without any tenderness, causing Valihorn to convulse in pain. Gram moved down the dungeon steps with ten Krone guards and stopped in front of the cell. Arun finished her work and stepped outside of the cell as Evisar and Valihorn began to stir. Gram looked on her with lust and brushed her cheek with his hand when she moved past him as an apology for forcing her to heal the companions. A guard locked the cell and moved into the shadows with the other soldiers while Arun took up a flanking position behind Gram.
Evisar stood up and took in the scene around him. His cell was only eight feet wide and ten feet deep. Outside the cell on the back wall, off to the left, Evisar saw the broken bodies of Jefon, Xander, and Tristan underneath the light of a torch. Evisar tried not to look at his dead brother and friends, but couldn’t help staring at the way they had been thrown into a heap and discarded like worthless trash. They deserved better.
Stone resolution returned to Evisar as he locked eyes with Gram. He took a step toward the bars and Gram did the same. The two stared at each other, neither willing to give any ground. Gram eventually looked past Evisar and turned his attention to Valihorn, saying, “You will allow me to cast a binding spell that will forbid you from using magic against those under my command. If you do not accept my spell, then I will have my guards kill you here and now. Do you understand?” Valihorn looked around and saw he had no choice.
As the spell was cast, Evisar finally had a moment to consider his narrow list of options. A warrior had to size up an opponent quickly and decide whether he could be beaten. Evisar decided then and there that Gram most definitely could not be beaten. He had witnessed Gram’s power in the fortress courtyard and when his father had been killed, and it wasn’t something he wanted to experience twice. He tried to think of some way he could turn the situation to his advantage, but nothing came to mind. He would just have to wait and hope an opportunity presented itself before Gram had him killed. As a magic-user Valihorn had some sort of worth to Gram, but Evisar had no illusions about himself. Sooner or later Gram would kill him; he had until that time to escape.
Gram finished casting the spell on Valihorn and turned to Evisar. “Now that the preliminary greetings are finished, let us get to it, shall we? You were the leader of this ragtag group, so I will ask my questions of you.” Evisar crossed his arms and said nothing as Gram whispered something inaudible under his breath and then asked, “Why did you come to this fortress?”
Evisar took time to consider what Gram had just done. He knew wizards could detect lies and even read thoughts if they were powerful enough, and he wondered if Gram was doing that now. Evisar chose his words carefully but tried not to let his uncertainty show. “Isn’t it obvious? You took my friend from me and I came to get him back.”
Gram shook his head in annoyance and tried again. “Let me put it another way. Why are you in this region? Elves do not often stray this far from Armena.”
Evisar was happy to continue telling the truth, as long as he didn’t give anything away. “You know the answer to that question as well. My father and King were killed by you, and my brother and I were exiled from Armena for your act of murder.”
The conversation between Gram and Evisar was interrupted by a hoarse voice speaking proudly from a few cells down. “Evisar, is that you my friend?”
Evisar forgot about Gram and his minions as he threw himself against the bars of his cell in excitement. “Devin, is that you?”
“It is Falon and I.”
“Falon is with you?” Falon was one of the Royal Guards on duty when King Tithas and his father were killed.
“Yes, we were both taken prisoner and brought here.”
“Devin, we finally found you. We feared the worst.”
“From what I am told, the worst is yet to come.”
Evisar could hear the despair and hopelessness in Devin’s voice, but because they were two cells down, he could not see Devin’s face. “Do not despair. All of Armena is looking for you.”
Gram spoke up once again. “Yes, indeed. Your showing up here has put doubts in my mind.” Without looking away from Evisar, Gram raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Without a word, the ten Krone guards marched over to Devin’s cell as Gram continued, “We have been holding the First Heir here until now. Given how close you came to freeing Valihorn, I have been forced to take increased security precautions by moving the First Heir sooner than I otherwise would have done.”
The guards unlocked the door to Devin’s cell with the teeth wiggling screech of iron on iron. Evisar became more desperate as he realized Devin might fall through his fingers once again. “Where are you taking him?”
“Into the Underworld, of course.”
Evisar pounded on the iron bars with renewed fury. “Why are you doing this? Devin! Do you hear me, Devin!?”
Evisar looked to the left toward the First Heir’s cell, but all he could see were a few Krone guards. Suddenly there was a loud smack, and then another, followed by a lot of yelling. Devin and Falon came running into Evisar’s view just before they were both tackled to the ground by at least eight Krone guards. Devin kicked and smashed his fists against his attackers. Falon managed to break a Krone’s neck, but there were too many. The Krone commander stepped forward and locked shackles around Devin’s ankles and hands and yanked him to his feet.
Devin yelled out, “Leave me alone, you monsters!” Then he turned his head and locked eyes with Evisar.
Falon went insane with desperation as Devin was led away. He threw two of the guards off him. He moved to get up when a Krone came up behind him and clubbed him on the head from behind. The large elf fell back to the ground with a thud and lay un
conscious.
Evisar saw that Devin had been beaten nearly to death and that he was afraid. “Evisar, don’t let them take me, brother.” The Krone guards led him quickly to the left out of Evisar’s view.
Evisar yelled, “Devin, Devin!”
“Evisar, don’t let them take me!”
He slammed into the iron bars again and yelled with all his heart down the dungeon hall. “We’ll find you, Devin. We’ll find you!” But then Evisar heard a steel door open and shut and the dungeon was silent once again. Just like that, the First Heir had come and gone.
Gram clapped his hands a few times in mock amusement and said, “How touching. A demonstration of the endless compassion of surface elves.” Gram turned to the four remaining guards and said, “Put that back in its cell.” The guards rushed forward and dragged Falon’s body back to his cell and locked the door.
It took Evisar a few moments to start thinking rationally again. Finally, he said, “Our wizards told us he was in the Underworld already. Why is he still here on the surface?”
“Your wizards saw the future. The First Heir is on his way to the Underworld where he will join the rest of the magic-users we have captured. His blood will ensure the destruction of Armena.”
“How? How will Devin cause the destruction of Armena?”
Instead of answering, Gram changed subjects completely by saying, “So you were saying earlier that I killed your father and your King. Given that information, I would have to guess you and your dead brother were the little whelps who escaped the battle only to bring reinforcements a short time later.”
Evisar nodded his head slightly to confirm the statement. Gram brought his finger up to his lips and looked on in silent contemplation. “Interesting. If only you had gotten there a little earlier we would both find ourselves in very different circumstances. Of course, if I had cast my spell forbidding transport out of the battle sooner, you would likely have been killed as well. We lost several good people in that fight, including a very good friend of mine.”
Do the Gods Despise Us? Page 16
