Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  "You're working for Naatos. It's not likely you're going to be able to protect me from him." Amelia thrust his hand back and stepped as far away as she could. The window was now directly behind her.

  "We didn't say allies against Naatos," said one of the other mercenaries. He had a long claw-like scar from his neck to his chin.

  "No, Hialtho, we didn't." Phelsco smiled at her thinly. "There's still factions and divisions among us. One of them's going to get you, Neyeb. It's not like the Para is a compassionate man. You're just the first bit of skirt that's caught his eye, but you won't last. At best he'll want you late at night or early in the morning. Other than that, you're on our terms."

  "Naatos said Vawtrians only marry once." Amelia struggled to keep her voice steady. Most likely they didn't plan to do much more to her here. This was the first part, the part where they cowed her into submission. "Besides, he doesn't seem like the sharing type. Don't you think he'll respond harshly if he finds out that someone, let alone five someones, slept with me?"

  "It's not like he's going to find out," said Silver Bar. He nudged Cheruch.

  "And why wouldn't he find out?" Amelia glared at them all. It was humiliating to rely on Naatos's offensive claim of her, but what other choice did she have at the moment? She glanced out the window, wondering if she could escape through that. The stones had large gaps and indentations. "It's not as if I'm going to lie for you," she said.

  Sharp pain snagged through her shoulder. Amelia cried out, grabbing at the wound. Blood covered her fingertips.

  Phelsco stepped back, his dagger bloodied. "Oh dear. You fell against a spike in the wall, did you? You were probably playing down in the dungeons, trying to get your sweetheart out, weren't you?" He glanced at his fellow faction mates and smiled, his expression cruel. "It's not as if you have much choice. You've already established yourself as a liar. You're incapable of killing. And you're practically a whore. A married woman and betrothed to an Awdawm. If it comes to a question of who he'll believe, it's unlikely that the Para will trust his wife of a few days over his men of the past months. A Talbokian chieftain would have his wife's head split open on the word of three men if they swore she had been unfaithful and he did not accept their claim to power. There's five of us, and many others we could make swear to it besides."

  Amelia kept her hand pressed over the wound. It wasn't deep, thankfully. The bandages from the spider bites took most of the force, but it still hurt. Her heart hammered faster, adrenaline surging in her veins.

  "And let's put it another way." Cheruch's voice was hoarse and gravelly. "You make this difficult for us, and we'll make it difficult for you. You don't want any of us losing our tempers with you. Besides, I already owe you for punching me in the throat."

  Amelia nodded. She would have liked to have said something clever, but her mind was empty except for one long shot. Turning, she jumped onto the window ledge and flung herself out against the outer wall.

  Shon struggled against the Talbokians holding him as WroOth returned without Amelia. "Where is Amelia? What did you do with her?"

  "She's just taking a quiet moment to reflect." WroOth gestured toward the archway on the left. "Now, shall we?"

  "Did you hurt her?" Matthu demanded.

  "Only her pride. But I'll do worse to both of you if you don't stop struggling now."

  Shon straightened. WroOth was right. Matthu followed his example.

  For the most part, Matthu seemed stable. His balance wavered for a moment, his eyes slightly glassy. But he didn't struggle to walk. The medication was holding him together for now.

  At least Shon had the confidence of the Machat's plan to stabilize him. That was one good thing they had going for them.

  WroOth led them through another entrance into Polfradon and deeper and deeper into its heart. The air grew closer and cooler as they descended. Soon they passed beyond the final floor of Polfradon's actual construction and into a freshly dug section. The passages here were wider and higher with only a few torches to light the way. Most of the light came from the red lichens scattered across the coarsely cut and broken stones.

  Shon looked around, sizing up the situation. Neither he nor Matthu had any weapons. That would have been useful in creating a further delay, giving the Machat more time, but Irasso had refused to give them any. He'd insisted it would have only caused problems. And he would have been right. They were at least wearing the heavy Talbokian uniforms, which did provide some protection. But who knew what good that would do? The Machat hadn't warned them about what they'd be up against.

  "Do you often play executioner for your brother's amusement?" Shon asked.

  The two guards behind them walked at a slightly slower pace, neither saying a word. Shon doubted that the sympathy ploy would work better on the guards than it would on WroOth, but he might be able to goad WroOth into some sort of action that might delay matters further. Besides, it would be a bad idea to cooperate fully. WroOth might become suspicious if they didn’t put up any resistance.

  WroOth glanced back at them, the shadows playing across his face. "No. I play executioner for my own amusement. There's so many ways it can be done, it never gets boring."

  Matthu twisted his head around to look about the broad passageway. "Is that what we're playing here?"

  "Were we playing?" WroOth asked.

  Matthu shrugged. "Maybe not."

  Rocks and dirt crunched beneath Shon’s boots as he continued to search for something they could use.

  Matthu cleared his throat. "So…do you make it a habit of killing people?"

  "I wouldn't call it a habit," WroOth said. "It is something I do when needed. The fact that it is regular does not make it a habit."

  Matthu frowned. "Then what would?"

  "Not being able to stop even if I wanted to." WroOth grinned. “Or perhaps that's an addiction."

  "You seem to actually care about Amelia," Shon said, glancing around the high walls. This staircase descended lower and lower. The Machat could be hiding anywhere, but how would they manage it?

  "She's my sister," WroOth said.

  "What she is is irrelevant." Shon refrained from rolling his eyes. "But if you do care about her, then you won't want to inflict pain on her."

  "Well, there are two problems with your statement. The first is that I am not inflicting pain on her. You two are free to leave via the Mallakish Passage. The second is that sometimes one must inflict pain on the ones one loves." WroOth stopped in front of a crudely cut stone door. He grabbed the inset handle and pulled it open, grunting with effort.

  Shon and Matthu looked at one another, and Shon knew they were thinking the same thing. Given Vawtrian strength, it was unlikely that even together they could move it once it closed. Would the Machat be able to get it open again?

  The opening revealed a dark passage, barely lit even with the dull red lichens. Water dripped somewhere ahead.

  "This is the Mallakish Passage," WroOth said with a grand gesture of his hand. "Follow this tunnel straight on. When you see light, you've reached the other side."

  "The other side?" Matthu folded his arms. "There's something in there that's going to eat us, isn't there? That's what you mean by 'the other side.' You mean death, don't you?"

  WroOth’s eyes widened. "Do I?"

  "You seem like a man who has a conscience," Shon said.

  Smiling, WroOth leaned against the door. "And you would be wrong. I try to avoid having one. Consciences tend to make people do things they don't want to do because they think that's what others think they should do."

  Shon shrugged. If they waited here in the entrance, perhaps they could find more clues about what they would face inside. And give the Machat more time to get into position. "Even so, I would imagine you have felt guilty about the people you've killed."

  WroOth's expression softened for a moment. "Yes," he said quietly. "Sometimes I do." The grin flashed over his face again. "But this isn't one of those times. Now in you go."

&n
bsp; "At least tell us what we're going to be facing," Shon said, his voice growing harsher. He waved toward the dark tunnel. "Don't you think that would at least be fair?"

  "If I was interested in fairness, I would have given you your weapons. Now hurry along, gentlemen. I have other matters to tend to, and speed is your only hope. If there's even that."

  Shon exchanged glances with Matthu. There was nothing more he could say. He and Matthu stepped beneath the broad stone arch. The air smelled reptilian in here.

  "One more word of advice." WroOth gestured toward the ceiling. "If there is something in here that wants to kill you, I'd watch your heads. They probably like ambushing their prey."

  36

  Attacked

  The niches and handholds were deeper than Amelia had anticipated, making it easier for her to climb down. Amelia moved as swiftly as she could, terrified but determined to get away.

  "Grab her!" Phelsco leaned out the window and swiped at her, but his fingers caught only air. "Get down to the next floor. Someone get down to the courtyard." He leaped onto the window ledge and swung over after her.

  Amelia moved faster, jamming her hands into the holds and sliding down, letting gravity do its work as she angled to the side. Only a few mercenaries were in the courtyard now. Though some pointed and catcalled, none made any moves to raise an alarm.

  "All we have to tell Naatos is that you tried to escape," Phelsco hissed. "What do you think your sweet husband is going to say about that?"

  Amelia dropped down farther. The rocks scuffed her bare feet. "Let's find out!"

  The hot wind blew against her, pulling at the black tunic. She had to move faster. Her elmis hurt every time she grabbed the stones. Without her fingerless gloves to pad her elmis, her hands weren't nearly as strong. But soon her feet found the next ledge. She crouched, lunged in, and ran.

  The jolt as she hit the stone floor went all the way through her legs, but she only staggered for a moment. Phelsco leaped in behind her.

  As she rounded the corner, she heard running footsteps.

  Liancth and Hialtho. Amelia skidded, turned, and ran the other way down the hall.

  Reaching the stairwell, she took the stairs, hugging close to the side. The stairwell opened to the next floor.

  Cheruch came around the corner.

  Amelia couldn't stop in time. She tried to punch him in the throat, but he caught her arm, dragged her forward, and struck her in the kidney. He then punched her in the face. The force of the blow knocked Amelia to the ground as the metal on the back of his glove sliced into her left cheek. The world reeled around her. Hot pain flared through her face.

  Cheruch seized her by her wounded shoulder and dragged her up.

  Amelia lashed out at him, her punch loose. "Let go!"

  Cheruch struck her again and again, in the side, the chest, the abdomen. "You will be silent!"

  Amelia gasped for air, her lungs empty and the painful cries lodging in her throat.

  "Be still, we don't want to kill her." Liancth shushed them as he rounded the corner. "Besides, the Paras might have left their tasks."

  "Not yet." Phelsco removed his dagger. "When we're done with her, we take her to the Hestral Pass and rescue her. This is what the Machat did to her. A little message on the dangers of resistance." He dragged his dagger blade over her ankle, then stomped on it with his heavy boot.

  Amelia coiled forward, the screams barely tearing loose. Their blows and kicks blurred together. Though she tried to fight back, each time she kicked or punched, she struck only chainmail or armor. And the more she fought, the angrier they became. Her lungs were on fire, each breath stabbed. The dull thuds and sharp punches against her body dulled her senses. One of them cut the back of her knee open.

  Something cracked and snapped.

  Amelia ducked her head down, fearing it was another of her bones. But then she heard a wet smack against the wall and felt a dull vibration. A body fell beside her.

  Amelia opened her eyes. To her surprise, she saw Liancth's body slumped to the side, his neck snapped, his eyes wide.

  "Explain yourselves, Talbokians." WroOth stood a few feet away beneath the arch of the door. He cracked his knuckles, glaring at them.

  Cheruch lowered his foot from his next kick. Phelsco and Hialtho backed away.

  "I said explain yourselves!" WroOth bellowed.

  "The Neyeb was trying to escape and free her Awdawm." Phelsco pointed at Amelia, but he kept his gaze focused on WroOth. "We were simply ensuring she did not succeed."

  Amelia struggled to breathe, feeling the pain spread through her body. She kept her arms about herself like broken shields. For the first time since she'd returned to Libysha, she was glad to see WroOth.

  "Indeed." WroOth stepped forward. His eyes blazed with rage. "That would not explain why she was climbing the outside of Polfradon or going in the opposite direction of her Awdawm, whom she knew was with me. And that certainly doesn't explain why she is bleeding so much."

  "We brought her here for punishment. And she tripped and fell on a spike," said Hialtho.

  Amelia barely heard him. His dull voice faded in and out. For now, she had to stay conscious. And then…she'd figure out what was next.

  "Really? A spike? About like this?" WroOth unsheathed the hunting knife from his side and held it up. The Talbokians drew back. "Funny…I haven't seen too many of those lying around in Polfradon. People should be careful where they walk." Seizing Cheruch, he stabbed him in the shoulder and thrust him to the ground. "Down to the dungeons, all of you!" he roared. "And wait there until you are summoned. Naatos will want to thank you all in person. You know what will happen to you if you disobey." He kicked Cheruch as the mercenaries scrambled away.

  Time to move. Amelia braced herself and struggled to sit up.

  WroOth pushed her back gently. "No, no. Don't get up. You're in no condition to walk." He removed his belt and bound it around her thigh above the deep cut along the back of her knee.

  Amelia made no argument. She barely dared to look at herself. The pain in her foot and side were excruciating, but each breath was like a knife wound. As WroOth picked her up, she glimpsed her feet and legs. Her right foot was shattered and misshapen. Several shards of bone broke the flesh along with the dagger wound round her ankle. Her hands were in similar condition, her right hand being the worst. Her entire body throbbed with the heat and horror. Yet that pain was almost a relief; she had no more room to feel humiliated and shamed.

  Mercifully, WroOth made no comments except to assure her everything would be fine. He carried her to the room she'd escaped into when she had been trying to escape him and ran into Naatos. Naatos and AaQar were both present here, standing around a table while in deep discussion. A large reptilian tail was just disappearing over the wooden frame behind the table and against the wall.

  "WroOth, I said I'm not—" Naatos stopped as he turned. His expression darkened. "Sultai kinran. What happened?"

  "Bring her in here." AaQar pressed open a door on the far side of the room. He grabbed a few vials from the shelf as well as a goblet.

  "Some of our Talbokians claimed she was trying to break the Awdawm out. Obviously a lie. She had just said goodbye to them, and I was escorting them out. Once I finished, I went back to the trunk where I'd put her and saw she was gone. I went outside and there she was, climbing down the outer walls." WroOth set her on the bed at the back of the room.

  "Drink this." AaQar thrust the goblet to Amelia's mouth. The liquid was bitter and sharp, but almost at once the crushing presence of the pain began seeping away.

  Amelia's body still ached. She remained clenched, struggling to keep from crying, her body tense, her breaths shuddering. Her head spun, and her focus swung in and out as if she was about to faint. Even with whatever AaQar had given her, the pain built in waves, spiking whenever she looked at her foot or took a breath. She couldn't even speak. A silence had clamped over her.

  There was no way her foot or her leg was going
to heal soon. In fact, there was no way her foot or leg would heal properly in this world, not with the current medical advancements. The world was shrinking away from her, the voices dimming. What way back was there from this?

  Naatos was beside her now. "Why did they do this?" He looked at her, the muscles in his face and neck drawn. "Amelia, you need to talk. Can you talk to me?"

  Amelia flinched. Why couldn't she just pass out? She was on the verge of it, but his voice pulled her back.

  "Amelia." Naatos leaned in front of her. "Start talking to me. How many attacked you?"

  Amelia averted her gaze, unwilling to look at him. She held up five fingers.

  "Four remain," WroOth said.

  "You only killed one?" AaQar asked. "Admirable."

  "I assumed Naatos would want to make an example of the rest."

  "Yes." Naatos moved back into Amelia's line of vision. His lips were pressed in a tight line. Turning, he struck the stone wall by the head of the bed. The loud crack resounded through the room as the bones crunched. The blow bloodied his hand. For a few moments, it remained bloodied, his breathing harsh and rapid.

  Amelia glanced up, taking the room in. AaQar stood by the bookshelf near the door, WroOth at the end of the bed. The waves of pain were lessening now.

  "This cannot be coincidence." AaQar pressed his hands together and against his chin, his expression growing grim. He returned to gathering supplies. "There were mere minutes in which they could do this."

  WroOth twisted his hands over the bed post. "Are all the women in our family to be cursed in this way?"

  "This is no curse." Naatos sat beside Amelia. The muscles within his face remained rigid, making him all the more terrifying. Even through her own pain, Amelia could feel his rage seething. "What did they tell you?"

  "They told me I needed allies against the other Talbokians." Amelia winced as Naatos examined her elmis. He pressed his fingers along the torn and roughened skin. "That one of the groups would get me anyway, and I should…give them what they wanted."