Blades of Sorcery

by Terah Edun

  Minutes later, quite aware that she had a firm deadline of a half hour, possibly sooner, before Captain Barthis stepped in, Sara found her target. He sat alone, staked to the ground in the center of a circle much like Nissa had been, but there was where the similarities ended.

  Instead of being surrounded by a crowd in darkness, he was resplendent in the bright light of a midday sun. He stood with his legs braced wide to displace as much of his weight as he could on the ground below. The rest of his body hung from a rack made of strong cedar. His arms were bound tight with rope on the cross shape that the rack made, and his head was held up by another rope looped around his forehead and bracing him to the cedar that rose above. As she watched him, his face was set in a deceptively bored visage.

  Sara wasn’t fooled.

  The occasional soldier would run through the circle set up by perimeter guards and spit in his face. He flinched as he tried to foolishly avoid the spittle each time, and winced when the sludge still hit his bruised but otherwise unmarked cheeks.

  Sara stepped into the circle and walked across the packed earth so that he could see her clearly. The captive was looking around like an eager child, and what he saw seemed to invigorate him. Even partially resettled, the camp surrounding him was in chaos. Soldiers and mercenaries rushing here and there with still more wounded, while clearly hobbled regiments were snatching aimless warriors and conscripting them left and right.

  Those who weren’t aiding wounded or retraining with their new cohorts were looking dazed and wounded themselves. Orders were flying about, and more than a few destriers were still loose, judging by the frantic eyes of grooms and Cams alike who were racing behind the horses who had no riding gear on, minus some bridles and loose ties.

  It was a mess, and as he took it in, the captive smiled. Because despite his predicament, he did have a lot to smile about. His side had succeeded in defeating and even sowing discord into the forces of an army known for its strict discipline…aside from the soldiers’ proclivities, like watching torture sessions and hand-to-hand combat sessions, that was.

  The fact that the chaos and discord was reigning days after the Kades had already done their worst damage not only stroked the prisoner’s ego but also made it difficult for any enemies to find the time to do more than throw a cursory glob of spittle in his direction. With their comrades dying and orders flying every which way, they didn’t have time for much worse.

  As Sara got within a few feet of him, the smiling Kade’s eyes lit up in recognition, almost as if she was a friend, though she suspected he was just glad to see it wasn’t another spit-prone individual to despoil his solitude.

  “You know why I’m here,” she said while standing a few inches away and looking at him. He was close enough that their heads were almost level, and her nose wrinkled at the stink. But she wanted to have a good look at his face, remember who he was, and think carefully about his responses.

  As if reading her thoughts, his mouth set itself in a grim line and he struggled to stay impassive.

  “I could hazard a guess why,” he said with a shrug.

  “Then just tell me what you know,” she said.

  He raised mocking eyebrows. “You’re going to have to do better than that, mercenary. We met on equal ground on the battlefield, and I let you capture me—”

  “Instead of kill you, you mean,” Sara said.

  “That is so,” he said with a sigh as he raised himself up as far he could on his crucified hands and slowly eased out his feet a bit to let them stretch. “And I guess you have my gratitude for extending my life a little bit longer. But you and I both know that it will only last so long.”

  “Long enough for you to do the right thing,” she said.

  “For you,” he said with a cruel laugh. “No, your commander will still kill me, and I won’t betray my cause and my people for your crumbs. What are you offering, anyway?”

  She stepped back as she thought about it, and then she said with a shrug, “Not a thing. But I can grant you some small pleasures before you die.”

  “Such as?”

  Sara smiled and flipped the knife from her wrist sheath into her hands.

  His wary gaze followed her movements as she darted her hand forward before he could even ask what she intended and cut the rope binding his head to the wood behind him.

  She saw the immediate relief in his eyes as the pressure from the tight binding around his brain immediately eased and he let out a small sigh.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she warned. “That may feel good for now, but soon enough you’ll be struggling to hold up the weight of your head, just as you’re dying to give your feet and legs some relief from the pain of strained muscles.”

  Ire flashed through his eyes, but he kept his voice low, as if he didn’t want to allow his rage to show through. It wouldn’t do him any good anyway; he had to know that.

  “My,” he said. “You certainly know how to treat a guy.”

  Sara gave him a terse smile. “You might say I’ve learned a few things about how to handle a prisoner. Now be nice and answer my questions and I might give you some relief. Hold up your head for a bit. Maybe even give you a stool to stand on.”

  He was silent as his right eye twitched and he considered his response. Just when she thought she might have him—by giving him small tidbits—he said, “Well, mercenary, I’ve never seen such a sad attempt at parlay. I should give you everything for those measly crumbs? Not even a bit of water. A bite to eat. It’s been three days—surely a merciful leader such as yourself would give your prisoner some respite?”

  Sara stared at him as she deciphered his language. His words were saying one thing. His tone quite another.

  Then she shook her head. “Perhaps you’re not understanding me. I make the offer and you be grateful that it even left my lips.”

  His lips pulled back in a sneer as he snapped, “I’d rather eat dung.”

  Anger rolled through her. “I’d be wary, Kade. Biting the hand that feeds you is a bold move.”

  He leaned forward until his face was within inches of her and his arms strained.

  “That’s the difference between your side and mine,” he said. “The difference between boldness and weakness. Between winning and losing. We show no mercy to our prisoners; we show no weakness. I’ve known you for less than a day and I can already see, mercenary…you don’t have what it takes.”

  Before Sara could retort that he didn’t know her at all, the sound of clapping met her ears.

  Startled, she turned to see Captain Barthis walking into the ring while his guards remained behind. Uncertain, Sara turned around and faced him. When he waited just inside the ring, she frowned but walked over to meet him.

  Before she’d even reached him, she said in a low voice not meant for prying ears, “You said I had at least a quarter hour more, captain. It’s been all of fifteen minutes. Why are you here?”

  The mocking smile Barthis was aiming at the Kade fell from his lips as he met her gaze.

  Coolly, he replied, “I said you had time to get effective results. You coddling our prisoner of war is not what I had in mind.”

  Sara flinched. Torturing someone, she had to admit, wasn’t her specialty, but she had been getting somewhere. Connecting with him. But even she knew that saying as much to the captain would get her nowhere.

  Instead, Sara replied, “I had a plan.”

  “And I have little time to lose,” he snapped. “Step aside.”

  From the glint of anger in his eyes, she had no choice. She did as he commanded. Sara even had the feeling he had been waiting for just this moment to upstage her. After all, he had to have left his tent posthaste to get here this soon.

  The question that floated through her mind now was Why.

  As she watched the captain pace toward the prisoner in a leisurely manner, she saw the Kade turn his disdainful gaze on the angry male battle mage. Sara couldn’t help but step forwa
rd and around her captain so that she could get a clear view. She hoped she wouldn’t see the actions from the tent repeated, but she couldn’t say they wouldn’t. The only good thing was that Davinis was nowhere to be seen, but as she stood in a corner where she could see the interaction clearly—both the Kade’s facial reactions and her captain’s—the dark pit in her stomach told her it wouldn’t be long now.

  For his part, Captain Barthis didn’t acknowledge her existence once he walked away, and didn’t even speak to the Kade at all. Not for a while, anyway.

  He just made it very clear that he was a very different type of interrogator.

  When he got within striking distance, he let loose.

  Not with his fists. He didn’t call in the guards to do his dirty work, either.

  Instead, he pulled a knife from the front of his vest and made a show of raising it high enough to catch the sun’s glinting rays. When the Kade’s eyes were drawn to the metal, the captain dipped fast as a snake and carved two perpendicular lines through each of the prisoner’s bare shoulder blades.

  The lightning-fast moves meant it was a moment before the pain caught up, but when it did, the Kade cried out at the shock of his sliced flesh, and fresh blood began to drip down his chest.

  Then, to Sara’s shock—and maybe the captain’s—the prisoner began to laugh.

  Through his chuckles, the Kade said, “So is this how it’s to be? You’re the evil torturer and she the tempestuous confessor?”

  Sara frowned at the thought of being referred to in such a dismissive manner, but stayed where she was. Maybe that was why the captain had sent her in the first place after all, to dangle hope in the Kade’s eyes before he took it away.

  With a grin plastered on his face, the Kade continued, “If I just spill my secrets into her ears, you’ll stop inflicting your painful blows?”

  Captain Barthis shook his head and said loud enough for all to hear, “Oh no. I think you’re mistaken. There will be no confession from you today. Instead, I will ply my trade, and if I so will it, just before you die, you’ll then tell me everything you know…with gratitude.”

  The Kade leaned forward with a hard look in his eyes. “Well, we both know that is a lie. You need me, this I know, or you wouldn’t be here now, would you? And I wouldn’t be alive. So let’s forget the games, shall we?”

  Barthis didn’t bat an eyelash. “I need you, do I? Well, I guess I can’t do what it is I want to, then?”

  A wary look came to the Kade’s eyes as the glint in Captain’s Barthis’s gaze turned dark. A darkness Sara knew well.

  25

  Sara watched as the captain sank his sharp knife into the man’s upper thigh and the Kade bellowed with a pleasingly high voice.

  Pleasingly because the captain smiled as if the sound was music to his ears…and the games were just beginning.

  Sara knew that the Kade was as smart as they were. And he knew that no good would come of him talking, which was why this tactic wasn’t going to work, but she held her tongue. She just hoped that at least the captain would know when to quit. Because the Kade was right: regardless of the fact that he was refusing to give up information, it was absolutely certain that he was no good to them dead. Alive, well, they could trade him for someone or something that a Kade would talk for.

  He had to know that, too.

  But as much as she feared the captain going too far, Sara realized he knew how to toe the line of just far enough.

  The Kade’s screams lasted another half-hour. Enough for even the most bloodthirsty of curious spectators to keep going about their missions rather than loiter one more second to hear a man who had been an opposition leader reduced to whimpers before them.

  But that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst was watching. But she did so at Barthis’s sharp command to stick around and see how a real warrior handled their prisoners. She didn’t think she had much to learn. But she observed because she had no choice, praying all the while for the Kade to spit it out, so she could go in search of Nissa and, when necessary, they could mount a forward offensive to stop the Kades from attacking what had been her home.

  But she was also getting frustrated at his reticence, and her darkness—ever present once unleashed—was creeping forward as well.

  “Where is my sun mage?” the captain said with a vindictive look in his eye. Then, without waiting, he twisted the knife he was holding in the Kade’s other thigh.

  The screams grew louder. For a moment, their prisoner even passed out from the pain.

  A bucket of salty water solved that problem.

  As Barthis raised his knife to do more damage, Sara figured she had one more chance.

  She stepped forward and said, “Let me.”

  The captain said angrily, “I gave you your opportunity to talk, Lieutenant Commander Fairchild—now let me and my attendants do our work. To do what we do best.”

  Sara made a show of looking around. “I see no attendants, captain.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Your point? I have called for them and they will be here momentarily, including Davinis…my favorite.”

  His voice was honey sweet at the end.

  “Then give me the moments left before he gets here,” Sara said, hoping he would play her game. “Besides, who said anything about talking?”

  Barthis laughed. “Fairchild, I would be more inclined to believe you had I not seen the pitiful volleys you inflicted him with before. Compassionate pleas have no place on the battlefield.”

  Sara said through clenched teeth, “I know that, sir.”

  “Do you?”

  Sara didn’t step back. Instead she said, “No mercy this time. I am as ready as you to shed blood.”

  Her visage hadn’t changed but apparently he saw the dark hunger in her eyes as the captain said, “Careful Fairchild or the Berserker nature will eat you alive.”

  But then with a sigh, the captain moved aside and let her replace him. He then pointed his knife down at the man.

  The captain said, “You have minutes until my people get here. No more. Do you understand?”

  “Understood,” Sara said.

  “Good—I need some food anyway,” said Captain Barthis. “But hear this: the minute I pull you back and Davinis steps in, I won’t hear a word further from you. That is unless you’ve accomplished what we need before then. Is that clear?”

  Sara stiffened. “As glass, sir. I’ll handle it, sir.”

  Barthis nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  He walked to a nearby loitering guard and immediately sent him running off to fetch some water and food.

  Turning to the guards, Sara didn’t hesitate. She knew what she had to do. Make a point. Whether it was to herself or to her captain, she didn’t quite know.

  She gestured to capture the guards’ attentions and then shouted, “Cut him down.”

  They hesitated and looked over at the captain.

  Sara said, “I gave you an order, now do it.”

  Barthis said with a glower, “Do it. But Fairchild, I’m warning you…”

  Sara shrugged off her cloak and removed her weapons belt, including two of the swords she now preferred carrying close to her waist.

  “I said I had it handled, captain, and I do,” she said sweetly.

  Moments later, the ropes were cut and the Kade invasion leader was where she wanted him—on the ground. She went to work.

  Moving swiftly, Sara didn’t bother giving him any warnings, just whirled her right leg in a kick that swept the Kade’s feet out from under him. Seeing he’d been hanging from a crucifix for days and was half-starved, he didn’t have much strength left.

  He toppled over like a tree, and she jumped on top of his chest.

  Straddling him with her knees on either side of his ribs, Sara leaned close and whispered in his ear, “I’m not going to enjoy this. It’s not in my nature to beat down someone just because I can. But…I will follow my captain’s orders until I get what
I’m seeking. This is your only warning.”

  Sara leaned back and looked into the Kade’s eyes. Personally she was almost sorry for what she was about to do. But the hunger was gleeful and she justified it knowing that he was still the enemy.

  The Kade slowly reached up and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, and then looked at her defiantly and said, “You do what you have to do, mercenary.”

  Their eyes locked, and distantly Sara heard the whoops and catcalls of some of her more childish colleagues as they spotted her on top of him. But she barely paid them heed.

  Instead, she brought up a fist and crashed it down with a satisfying cru-unch.

  When his nose broke, the entire area around his containment field went silent.

  Then Sara went to work.

  She pressed down on the broken, twisted lump in the middle of his face hard enough for him to squeal and plead, then brought a second hand down on his throat.

  Pressing down hard, she began cutting off his oxygen supply with every squeeze of his throat while increasing the pain nodes exploding in his brain by squishing the torn cartilage up and down his nostrils.

  She used her own body as a counterweight to ride out his jerks and bucks. After a few minutes, she even had the feeling that some of his responses were involuntary, just pure instinct as the pain drove him to do anything he could to stop her assault. But she didn’t.

  The sounds he made, the sounds his body made, were like nothing she wanted to see or hear again. But she didn’t stop until he’d almost passed out.

  The she let up the pressure on both points.

  Leaning back, Sara took a deep breath and said, “Once I start, I won’t stop until I’m ready. I won’t listen to your screams, I won’t heed your pleas, and I won’t let up until I’m ready. When I am ready, then you’ll have ten seconds to tell me what I want to know. If you don’t, we start all over again. Do you understand?”