Another dungeon, he thought, all the energy fleeing his limbs. He fell against the metal, a few rats scurrying as his heavy knees hit the stone. Then a deep itch set upon his scorched brow, always worse when he was irritated.
“You’re awake,” Valin Tehr said. “Finally. I should have you cut to pieces for killing Captain Henry. You know how hard it was to coax him to my side?”
The news that he’d killed a captain of the city guard settled into Torsten’s heart like a boulder. Visions of tossing Sir Havel Tralen to his death at Winde Port.
“You with us, Sir Unger?” Valin said.
Torsten’s head searched, turning his ear this way and that. Valin’s voice carried in the stone-walled dungeon, bouncing here and there, making it impossible to pinpoint him.
“You traitorous scum. I’ll kill you too!” Torsten found the bars again and gave them a violent shake.
“Always the rush to violence with you,” Valin said. “Isn’t that what allowed Redstar to shove you into a place just like this? If I remember correctly. Won’t you ever learn?”
“You saw what happened to him,” Torsten said, seething.
“With your sight, and my help.”
“You used Rand! A man from these same streets. And you turned his sister into a monster.”
“Trust me, I had nothing to do with her. As far as I knew, she died the night of the riots. An… unforeseen complication.”
“Because you needed her to control Rand,” Torsten realized.
“Very good.”
“He has no idea about her, does he?”
“I suspect only Codar knows… knew enough about the Dom Nohzi to understand what happened to her. This far west, they’re little more than bedtime stories to frighten children.”
“And Codar summoned the blood pact upon Oleander’s head?”
“He did.”
Torsten’s grip tightened, his nails digging into his thumbs. He couldn’t believe Valin would admit it with such impunity.
“Oh, calm down.” Valin whacked the bars above Torsten. The clang made him wince, and the vibrations in the metal had his bones chattering. “We did the kingdom a service. Do you know what it means to make a blood pact with the Sanguine Lords?”
“It means you’re a coward!”
“It means that if they reject your offering, your own life is forfeit. They haven’t assassinated royalty in centuries, in any kingdom. They are beings of the shadow, and an attack like this? I forbade Codar to pursue the pact, told him there were other ways, but he went behind my back.”
“And he died anyway,” Torsten said. “I only wish I was the one who’d done it.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near that church! But proud Codar… He left me a map showing the region of the Dom Nohzi’s hideout, then left.”
“Maybe he realized the kind of man you are and tried to stop it.”
“You aren’t the only one who lost a friend!” Valin roared. Before Torsten knew what hit him, the man’s cane pressed against his fingers, crushing them against the bars. He pushed, harder and harder, until they were on the verge of breaking, then let off. Valin drew a deep, calming breath.
“You were there when he stepped between the monsters and their prey,” Valin said. “Did you hear anything he said? Any reason why?”
“So that’s why I’m still alive. Your dear old friend is dead, and you have no idea why?” Torsten sneered. “How does it feel to be left in the dark? Lied to?”
“I gave you so many chances!” Valin said. “I offered to work together all those years ago and again, right upstairs, only days ago. Time and time again you proved the stubbornness that allowed this kingdom to rot with that witch behind the throne. From the Drav Cra to the Black Sands, even Liam’s death. You tell me there isn’t a part of you that doesn’t wonder if she poisoned him.”
There was a time that thought had crossed Torsten’s mind, but no longer. He’d come to know her well enough to know how much she truly did love her husband. She just struggled to show it, as she struggled with so much.
“She didn’t,” Torsten said assuredly. “And maybe she wasn’t what this kingdom needed, but she was our queen regardless. She was the mother of a boy who needs one now more than anything.”
“Oh please,” Valin scoffed. “He’d be better off with one of my whores. Or me.”
“You don’t deserve to even breathe near him!”
“At least I know what I am. You’re so quick to judge, but I hear every rumor from the castle. How you stared at Oleander while she swayed her hips. How you panted in lust while she took you in her room. Lust destroys kingdoms, Torsten, and you are guilty of it—of letting it cloud your judgment—no matter how much you pray to Iam.”
Valin paced in front of the cell, dragging his mangled foot behind him. Torsten didn’t respond. This time, he couldn’t. He hated that there was truth to the snake’s words. Oleander may have found the light, but Torsten knew that if she had been tossed into a cell after Liam died until her spell of insanity waned, the kingdom would have been better off.
But Pi may never have returned without the orepul and Redstar’s influence, Torsten reminded himself. Without her, the Nothhelm line, chosen by Iam so many ages ago, may have died off.
“All those years amongst nobles has made you soft, Torsten,” Valin said. “You forgot this place. You forgot what it means to claw for every breath. And these people are the Glass Kingdom. Oleander, Liam, to them we are men to wield swords; fodder for the so-called enemies of Iam. It took a man like Redstar to open your eyes for Skorravik’s sake, even as he closed them!”
Valin banged on the bars. Then he exhaled slowly. “But Pi is still young. He can still be taught what the Glass Kingdom is, not the fantasy you parade around that infernal castle. Fighting wars over nothing while your people starve. You’re so afraid of another Redstar because his rise was your failure; you can’t see that I’m more savior than scourge.”
“Look around your own brothel, Valin,” Torsten said. “Look at the sins you peddle. If you really think yourself a savior, you’re even more mad than I thought.”
“I merely know what the people want when they aren’t too busy hiding from Iam’s gaze. Soon, the Caleef will either be found, and I’ll be hailed a hero, or he’ll find his way back to his people, and the war will worsen. Either way, my position strengthens.”
“You’re insane.”
“Then the Dom Nohzi will face our wrath for what they’ve taken. South Corner will be rebuilt, made to flourish with the support of a king who sees more than those beyond his own borders.”
“No. The world will find out what you’ve done, and you’ll pay, for all of this. You’ll pay for everything you’ve ever done. Shieldsmen will come looking for me.”
“And they’ll find nothing. A blind, grieving man goes walking off to South Corner for a bout of pleasure in a brothel, anything can happen. Now, I have a royal funeral to attend to, and as the soon-to-be Master of Coin, it’s only right for me to be there. Take your time to think about what Codar said. I can make your death a lot less painful if you play nice.”
“You think I fear pain?”
“No,” Valin admitted, “but I’ve watched you a long time. You hate watching others suffer and well… my audience craves it.”
Valin’s cane tapped as he hobbled away. Torsten was so angry he could barely breathe. His entire body felt like it was going to come undone. He could almost feel the fire searing his eyes out again.
“Oh, and Torsten,” Valin said, voice now echoing from farther away. “Do try and forgive Lucas. He truly did know very little, and he’ll need it for tonight. I think the fool really wanted to be a Shieldsman. It’s easier without family holding you back, isn’t it? We both know.” Valin released an exaggerated sigh. “Youth. Don’t mourn too hard for your beloved Queen. You’ll see her soon in Elsewhere. You and I know you both deserve it.”
“Get back here!” Torsten roared, slamming on the bars. Stone
dust fell from the ceiling covering his head. He shook, and he shook until his arms gave out.
It was no use.
He was trapped once again, and this time, Rand wasn’t around to save him. Or Sora for that matter. The blood mage seemed to show up in his gravest moments. So much so, he’d believed she’d been guided by Iam’s hand despite her depraved powers; that he was using something wicked in order to spread His light, if only she’d open her eyes.
Neither of them arrived. He wondered if all this time he’d seen divine intervention, but it had only been coincidence. If now his luck had run out.
He sank back against the wall. In the Glass Castle dungeons, he had his sight, and supporters even if he didn’t know about them. People like Rand who knew where he was. If Valin was right about one thing, it was that it wasn’t hard for him to vanish. He wasn’t a king. He was a worthless knight kept around in a position out of courtesy for prior service. He’d be forgotten as soon as Pi moved on to a new mentor.
Only Lucas Danvels knew where he was. A boy who’d kept far too much to himself, and if he wasn’t dead yet for trying to undermine Valin, would very likely be soon.
Torsten let his head fall back against the wall, a screen of cobwebs breaking against his bare skin. He aimed his face toward the ceiling.
“What now?” he asked, hoping Iam was still listening. “I’ve done everything I thought you wanted. What did I miss?”
All that answered was the rustling of more rats and the distant drip of water somewhere outside the cell.
“If the boy had only told me what he’d seen, we might have figured this all out!” Torsten punched the floor, cracking open the skin of his knuckles. Then he sighed. “It’s not his fault. He was scared for his family, I know. Everyone here is, and we all should be. I should have done more. I should have put Valin away decades ago instead of charging off to war.”
Torsten raised his knuckle to his lips and licked off some of the fresh blood. The feel of Sigrid’s teeth in his neck… Oleander’s cold corpse… the taste of copper washed across his mouth.
“What now?” he said softly. “Liam, Uriah, they never taught me how to handle men without honor or fear. They only taught me to fight what I can see. I hoped Redstar was the end of the usurpers, but Uriah was right... Ill kings did bring circling wolves. They merely came from within.”
Torsten clutched absently for the pendant of the Eye of Iam which once hung from his neck—that which was given to him by Liam. In so many battles, it had renewed his hope when all seemed lost.
“Is this truly what you want?” Torsten asked. “Tell me that it is, and I’ll stop fighting. Show me something...”
“Valin’s got something on you too, eh?” a gruff voice asked from the other side of the cell. Torsten nearly leaped out of his skin.
“Who are you?” Torsten questioned, now crouching and ready for anything. “Have you been in here the whole time?”
“I suppose I have.” He burped, and Torsten could smell the liquor on his breath from across the cell. “Funniest thing. Most men snore when they fall asleep drinking. I go down, silent as a crypt.”
He slapped the stone and Torsten flinched.
“Right, you asked who I am too,” the mysterious stranger said. “I guess Father Morningweg will have to do. I can’t recall when I was called anything else.”
“You’re a priest?” Torsten asked in complete disbelief.
“Don’t you see my holy blindfold?”
Torsten didn’t answer. The man clearly didn’t know who Torsten was, and he didn’t want to reveal his condition and surrender the upper hand.
“Yes, I am indeed a Priest,” Morningweg said. “Wouldn’t be if I could help it, but what can we help?”
“What?” Torsten replied.
Morningweg groaned. “It’s a long story and my head’s pounding. Valin gives me the run of the place, any girl I want, but now all of a sudden I’m tapped out and tossed in here to sober up, so I can go be a priest again for the kingdom.” He blew a raspberry.
“Of course. The priest Valin got ‘relieved by the convent’ is just a sham.” Torsten sank back into his spot.
“A sham?” he said, sounding insulted.
“Priests don’t smell like you. You reek worse than the brothel.”
“I’ll have you know I served in the church of Fessix for thirty years before the savages burned it to the ground on a raid. All I hear are those peoples’ screams when I’m sober, so forgive me if I’d rather not be scolded by a man who finds himself in Valin’s dungeon. He’s a cruel lump of shog, but the men who wind up down here usually deserve it just the same.”
“I…” Torsten’s throat went dry. He remembered hearing about that attack on the village when he was Wearer of White before Liam died. He remembered being in the Shield Hall and sending out relief rather than troops because securing a foothold at Crowfall was more important than one small village. “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault, whoever you are,” Father Morningweg said. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I could think so straight.”
A minute or so went by in silence until Torsten’s brow began to itch again.
“So if you’re a priest, why aren’t you in Hornsheim?” he asked.
“I don’t suppose anybody cared about a priest without a church or flock,” Morningweg said.
“You could have returned there years ago, or been placed somewhere new. There are traveling missions throughout the East. People that desperately need to hear the word of Iam.”
“Nobody needs to hear it,” he scoffed. “They need to feel it, deep within. What can I possibly say to anyone when I stopped feeling anything? All my friends, dead, over nothing.”
“’Iam cannot protect against all evil, only illuminate it, so we may drive it back into the shadows,’” Torsten said, quoting scripture.
“Yeah, some god,” Morningweg scoffed.
“The echoes of the God Feud linger. Not all men have seen the light yet.”
“I thought Liam was supposed to fix that?”
“Some evils take more than a single lifetime to erase. You should know that.”
“And trust me, I do. Huddled, locked in my church so many countless times, my arms wrapped around children when the savages came. And every time I thought it was faith that guarded us until Redstar and the Drav Cra finally broke in.”
Torsten sat up. “Redstar was part of that raid?”
“He led it,” Morningweg said. “Turns out, it wasn’t faith that protected us so long. It wasn’t the fortress of Iam’s light that was our church. The savages simply didn’t care whether we lived or died. We were worthless to them. Our food and clothes though, like gold.”
“I understand, Father,” Torsten said. He edged along the wall to get a little closer. “Trust me, more than anyone, I do. I have seen more evil than you can imagine. My faith has been shaken too many times to count. But every time, when the world seems darkest, He shows me the way.”
“Are you a priest, too?” Father Morningweg asked. “You sound like one.”
“A Shieldsman.”
“Well, Shieldsman, Iam hasn’t met Valin Tehr yet.”
“He’s a flea compared to Drad Redstar, and I stopped him.”
Father Morningweg seemed to choke on his next breath. “You what?”
For a moment, Torsten was surprised. Everyone in Yarrington had come to know how he delivered the final blow to Redstar after turning the Shield back against him. “Forgive me,” Torsten said. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Sir Torsten Unger.”
Father Morningweg didn’t answer. Instead, he scampered across the floor and wrapped his hands around Torsten’s cheeks. It happened so fast Torsten nearly punched him. Morningweg patted his face, feeling the form of it until he reached the mess of scarred tissue across his brow that left his eyes useless.
“By Iam, it really is you,” he said, incredulous. Before Torsten could answer, the priest broke out into hysterical laughter.
Torsten got a faceful of alcohol-coated breath that might have been enough to leave him inebriated.
“What is it?” Torsten said, shoving the man’s face away.
It took Father Morningweg a few seconds to settle himself. “I helped Rand Langley break you out so you could face Redstar.”
“You helped Rand, too?” Torsten promptly seized the priest’s shoulders. “Do you know anything about what happened to him. About his sister?”
“I only helped him sneak into the crypt, nothing more.” Again he chuckled. “By Iam, of all the places to be thrown today, here I am with the man who avenged my town.”
“I did—”
“I know, I know, a priest shouldn’t want revenge, but I did,” Father Morningweg interrupted. “Oh, I did. If I could have been there when you drove your sword through his heart… I don’t think there’s a girl in Valin’s field that could give a man such pleasure.”
“Father!” Torsten whispered sharply.
“Sorry. I’m not used to anyone caring. So, it’s true then, that Redstar took your eyes with him?”
Torsten nodded, then realized he made the same mistake Pi always had with him. Father Morningweg was blind as well. “It’s true,” he said.
“A shame. You’d have made a far better priest than I. At least you might have been able to protect my people against those monsters.”
“I’ve failed mine too many times to count.”
“Such is life under Iam.” Father Morningweg exhaled. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he is still watching over us to place us here together after we helped each other get what we wanted without even knowing.”
“And perhaps it is a coincidence,” Torsten remarked.
“Either way, I thank you, Torsten Unger. Thank you for giving me closure. I only wish we didn’t have to meet like this.”
“Help me get out of here, Father. Whatever Valin has on you, we’ll make it right.”
“Alas, I’m not a fighter. Wretched as Valin is, without him, my altar boy, Devlin Boremater, would be a worthless street urchin. I owe him.”
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