Betrayer's Bane

by Michael G. Manning

  She did, but she still worried, “We aren’t far down. They will be able to sense us.”

  “We are nothing but stones,” replied Tyrion, his words seemed to have regained some of their normal timbre.

  “He’s right,” said Brigid. “If you could move away and look back your magesight would only find solid ground. He’s done this before.”

  The warden didn’t understand but she was used to that, so she did what she normally did, moved on to pragmatic issues, “What next then?”

  “You rest,” answered Tyrion. “Take as long as you need. When you’re ready we’ll go back up and finish making our way back.”

  “It could take a while if you want me strong enough to get us all the way. That larger shield tires me out much faster than I expected. I used up practically everything I had getting us this far. I’m exhausted. Might be hours before I’m ready,” explained Layla.

  “We can wait,” he answered, leaning back and getting comfortable on one side of their subterranean bubble.

  “What about air?” asked Layla.

  His eyes were closed, “I’ll exchange it when it gets stale.”

  “Don’t go to sleep then,” she cautioned. “I don’t want to wake up dead.”

  Tyrion smiled, “Don’t worry, when you start to suffocate your heart speeds up. You’ll wake up well before the dead part.”

  “How do you know that?”

  The question gave him pause. He had felt his heart pounding before, when he was being suffocated in some of his early arena fights, but he hadn’t known how it worked exactly, now he did. The concentration of carbon dioxide in the blood stimulated a brain center that then increased heart rate and activated the adrenal response. The more he thought about it the farther his knowledge went, tracing through the vast information the She’Har had collected over the ages.

  Having the information was one thing, but understanding and using it was another. Doing that would take time and thought. He needed to ponder the knowledge he had gained in order to know the correct questions to find the answers he needed. His mind had become a labyrinth and the only way to tame it would be spending time walking the maze until it had become familiar.

  Putting his thoughts aside he answered, “Don’t worry about that, just rest up.” They stopped talking after that but despite closing his eyes he didn’t sleep. He did what he had been doing almost every idle moment since he had somehow returned from becoming a tree, he walked the maze.

  His mind was different since taking the loshti, so much so that it frightened him at times. His recall was near perfect now, whatever mechanism preserved the information of the She’Har in the losthi now worked to do the same with everything he experienced. He could remember breakfast, not just this morning’s breakfast, but every other breakfast he had had since eating the strange She’Har fruit.

  His mental focus was altered as well, sharpened in ways he had never considered. With so much information at his disposal it would have been easy to get lost, but his mind’s eye never wavered, he could follow a chain of thoughts or memories from one end to another without losing his course, no matter how many tangents presented themselves along the way.

  What really worried him, though, were the changes in his personality. In the beginning it had been subtle, the core of his being was still the same, all the information he had gained was simply that, information. Most of it sat in dark shelves at the back of his brain, dusty and unused, but as he sorted through it, during idle moments, that knowledge filtered into the center of his being.

  It was like living in a library. The knowledge of the losthi was like an endless supply of books. Those books sat dormant, quiescent, until he examined them, but once he had they comingled with his personality. The process was fast, far faster than reading a real book, or learning from a teacher, for he didn’t have to memorize anything. That part was done already, he simply had to think about what he was learning and discover how to fit it into the other things he had learned. It wasn’t instantaneous, but it was far faster than he felt comfortable with, and worse, it seemed to be speeding up.

  The more knowledge he integrated, the easier it was to add more, since each new piece had more things to connect to. It frightened him, and at times he almost wished he could go back to being a tree again. The existence that the She’Har elders experienced was far slower, nothing was rushed. It had felt impossible to be overwhelmed by mere information then.

  The farther he progressed the more distant and unimportant his passions became, and the less important the people around him seemed. They were ephemeral compared to the eons that lay within his mind. The only emotion that still seemed truly significant still was his desire to repay the She’Har for what they had done to his world—and perhaps the love he felt for Kate, Lyra, and his children, although that was something that grew more difficult to hold onto with each passing day.

  Hatred was easier. It burned hotter and was harder to forget than his softer emotions.

  What am I becoming?

  In his mind’s eye there were two options beckoning, one was that of a cool passionless creature of pure intellect, while the other was an intellect ruled by the only desire hot enough to survive the deluge of information, the fire of revenge. Wooden man, or passionate avenger, which will it be? Neither would preserve his gentler emotions, neither would save his sanity, but one was infinitely more human. And at least one has a goal, a purpose, while the other is nothing short of dying…

  But was it real? Was a choice truly necessary? It felt that way, but perhaps the whirlwind of changes he was experiencing hid the possibility of remaining a moderately decent human being. With time he might adjust, might find peace, might become a good man, Daniel Tennick still existed somewhere, trapped inside a lifetime of violence and now beset by an avalanche of alien knowledge. Could that man find a way to coexist with the present, to forge a future without the need for retribution?

  I can decide later, he realized. Nothing he was doing was irrevocable, so long as they weren’t discovered. Let Tyrion continue with the planning and preparing, and if peace was possible, and if he wanted it, then perhaps in the future he could make that choice. For now, he would prepare for the worst. And if it comes I will watch the world burn.

  Either way, he would never allow himself to become the wooden man.

  His heartbeat had increased dramatically and he noticed he was hyperventilating. It was time to refresh their air supply.

  Roughly three hours passed before Layla felt able to continue their journey but despite her extended rest she wasn’t able to get them all the way before she needed to stop again. They were forced to repeat their tactic of hiding beneath the earth.

  The time and difficulty of their expedition was not lost on Tyrion and he resolved to improve things for their next excursion. He felt certain he would need many more test subjects and doing it the way they had was simply too time consuming. He needed a Mordan mage.

  The first batch of slaves coming from Ellentrea might have one, but it was unlikely. Most of the slaves in Ellentrea were Prathions. Fewer than one in ten were trades from other grove with differing gifts. He could send Ian and Layla to collect slaves from Sabortrea, where the majority were Mordan mages, but he worried that that might give away his hand.

  A better option might be to make sure they selected carefully to get one of the few Mordan mages present in Ellentrea when they went.

  Once they had reached the hidden entrance to the underground retreat he dismissed Layla. Exhausted, she was only too glad to be sent home. Brigid followed him down, with their unconscious captive floating behind her.

  When they at last reached the ‘prison’ he directed her to position the She’Har woman in the long box he had set up in the center chamber.

  “You’re going to put her in a stasis box?” asked Brigid, surprised.

  Tyrion nodded absently, “Of course, it’s the best way to keep them fresh. There’s also the added benefit of not having to worry about esca
pe attempts while she’s in it. I can’t afford to keep one of them outside the box for very long unattended. They may not be as strong as we are but spellweaving could provide any number of ways for one of them to escape, or worse, signal their grove.”

  “Fresh,” mumbled Brigid, turning the word over in her mind.

  He smiled at her, “Exactly. I’ll use the cells when I need to age them, but only after I’ve rendered them safe for storage outside the stasis box.”

  Brigid was mystified, but she was unwilling to admit it in front of her father. Instead she asked, “What do you mean by safe? If you are going to kill her, please allow me to assist…”

  Tyrion shook his head, “No, I’m not going to kill her. I’m going to remove her ability to spellweave. Once that is done she won’t be able to escape, assuming she survives the procedure.”

  She stared at him open-mouthed, “Is that possible?!”

  He smiled, “It might be, though I’m sure it won’t be pleasant, and I may need a lot more subjects to test my idea on before I get it right. And of course, even after I come up with a workable method we will need more subjects for what comes after. I hope you’re prepared to work hard Brigid. This laboratory is going to be even larger later and I will need you to keep it fully stocked."

  “Laboratory?” She had never heard that word before. “What will you do after you remove their spellweaving abilities?”

  “Now, now, Brigid,” he tutted, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t want to spoil the surprise.” Besides, he added silently, even you might think me mad if I told you what I plan.

  “Will they suffer?” asked his daughter with an aura of intensity.

  Tyrion’s eyes met hers, “Suffering is not my intention here, but I believe it will be unavoidable for most of them. Is that sufficient?”

  “As long as I can watch,” she answered.

  Her father nodded, “Most of the time, certainly, except when I have other tasks for you.”

  Chapter 10

  They left the Prathion woman in the stasis box and Tyrion left the She’Har man’s head on one of the laboratory’s two tables. He didn’t have a second box to keep it in yet. There were others in the chambers above, but they were built for full bodies and he didn’t feel like moving one just then. The head doubted the head would decompose too much overnight so he dismissed it.

  Then he and Brigid began the walk home. When the laboratory was finished there would be a second exit, one that would emerge in his bedroom, but it hadn’t been completed yet.

  Tyrion was surprised to see a wagon in the yard. Wagon’s weren’t that unusual, but all of their wagons were kept in a long shed Ryan had designed. This one belonged to someone else and it had been parked near the front door.

  “Looks as though we have guests,” he commented.

  Brigid’s chains rustled as they lifted into the air around her.

  “No need for that,” he reassured her. “It’s probably someone from Colne, not a threat.”

  They found Tom and Alice Hayes in the main room with Kate and Layla. Their son Tad stood nearby with Sarah. It appeared as though they had entered during a rather intense conversation. Every head turned to track him as Tyrion entered the room but their attention didn’t remain on him. A second later they all focused on Brigid, nearly naked and surrounded by serpentine chains that floated sinuously around her.

  Tyrion smirked as he considered what sort of impact a sight like that must be having on the visitors from Colne. “Good evening,” he intoned formally.

  Alice Hayes stared at Brigid for a moment and then checked her husband Tom’s gaze, annoyance flickering across her features as she noted his eyes fixated on the girl’s nubile body.

  Kate put one hand over her mouth, to cover her own expression of humor, while Layla seemed clueless regarding the reactions of their visitors. Sarah was the first to intervene, “Brigid, why don’t you go change into something?”

  “Father said I could do as I liked.”

  “Except when we visit the town,” reminded Sarah.

  “We are not in Colne…”

  Sarah broke in, “But Colne has come to us, be mindful of our visitors.”

  It was Brigid’s turn to be annoyed then but when her questioning eyes turned to her father he gestured toward the door, “I won’t need guarding, Brigid. You can retire. If you want to rejoin us be sure to wear something.” His voice was firm and unyielding.

  She lowered her eyes sullenly and turned away. Tom Hayes watched her backside with keen interest as she left, until Alice punched him in the arm.

  Tyrion ignored Tom’s sudden embarrassment, “Let’s move to the dining hall. I don’t think we have enough chairs in here for everyone to talk comfortably.”

  The dining hall had been added over the past year. It opened up from the kitchen on the right side of the house and held a large trestle table capable of seating thirty, although they only enough chairs for ten. One side was still serviced by a long bench, but eventually Kate planned to replace it once they had a full complement of chairs. That might be a long time off, however, since Violet had been the only one interested in making such furniture and she was now tasked with other things.

  Ten chairs was more than sufficient for their guests at the moment, though. Tyrion moved to the head of the table and gestured toward the elegant seats, “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

  Sarah and Tad sat on the bench across from the newcomers who were encouraged to sit in the chairs closest to Tyrion. Kate and Layla took the seats beside them.

  Sarah took the initiative, “Thaddeus’ parents are here to discuss the offer we presented to them a few days ago.”

  Tom Hayes looked distinctly uncomfortable sitting so close to the man who had once cuckolded him and then later kidnapped his son. It was a testament to the progress they had made over the past year that he had been willing to sit there at all. His wife, Alice, seemed even more awkward and she avoided looking directly at Tyrion.

  “I’m sure Sarah and Tad explained it to you fully, did they not?” asked Tyrion.

  Tom coughed, “They did, but to be frank, it was hard to credit their words. Do you truly intend to build a new city?”

  “I would not make such a statement in jest,” announced Tyrion. “You know me better than that.”

  Taking a deep breath Tom continued, “But where will you get the resources? You don’t have enough people. Such a thing will take time…”

  “People?” interrupted Tyrion, “I thought that was clear. Colne and Lincoln will be my people.”

  “Your people?” said Alice incredulously. “The people of Colne have profited from our trading, but they fear you too much to move for you. Those in Lincoln hardly know you at all.”

  Tyrion leaned back, bringing his hands together in front of his face and making a steeple with his fingers, “Do you remember when I came to Colne and took the children?”

  Tom and Alice were already nervous, but their faces flushed at that memory.

  He smiled, “Of course you do. I took your son hostage and forced the two of you to gather the others for me under false pretenses. It was an unpleasant event I am certain, but you have come to understand the necessity of what I did then, even if you didn’t appreciate my efforts at the time.”

  Tom reached for the cup of water that had been placed in front of him. His hand shook and when he got it to his lips he almost choked on the first sip. Alice kept her hands in her lap, clenching the fabric of her skirt.

  “This time is different, however,” continued Tyrion. “There is no urgent necessity. Now that we have found peace I want to use the gifts we have to provide for the prosperity of all mankind. Would you want to be an obstacle to my kindness? This goes beyond our old grievances.”

  “My lord,” interrupted Tad, “There’s no need to frighten them. The benefits will be more than enough incentive.” Turning his attention to Tom and Alice he added, “Dad, look at this house. Imagine having a home like this o
ne, and not just you and mother, but everyone. We intend to build an entire city of homes like this—houses, shops, everything.”

  Sarah was nodding, “In the past all of mankind lived in such places. We want to make it happen again. We can make it happen again. Even farmers and shepherds will have homes to make the finest citizen in Lincoln today envious.

  “The peace brokered with the She’Har makes all of that possible, that and more. The people no longer need to struggle to survive in the hills. The soil is better here, closer to the Groves. The land smoother and easier to till. The magic we possess can heal most injuries and allow us to produce wealth that was unthinkable before. This will be the start of a new age of prosperity, and you will be at the forefront of it.”

  Tyrion was surprised and pleased with Sarah’s eloquence and enthusiasm. He hadn’t realized how much she had taken his idea to heart. She was a good choice. Her passion is infectious. He had chosen Tad for this task because of his connection to Tom and Alice, but now he suspected that Sarah might be the most important piece in making his plan work.

  Alice responded first, “We can understand what you’re offering, but people resist change. Many will not wish to leave their homes. This all sounds wonderful, and if anyone can make such a thing happen, it would be you, and your brothers and sisters. I just don’t think there’s any way to convince two whole towns to pick up and move.”

  “They don’t have to come all at once!” declared Sarah. “They can come a few at a time. They can see what we build for them and tell their friends and neighbors. It doesn’t have to be sudden.”

  Damnitt, thought Tyrion. That’s not what I told her. But the damage was done. Thinking furiously, he revised his plan. The more he considered it the more he realized his previous idea had been unreasonable. The people couldn’t be moved all at once. It would have to be done in stages. Even working cautiously there would be stragglers and holdouts at the end, but they could capture them afterward, provided there weren’t too many to round up.

  In other words, they would have to keep up the deception, and the longer they could manage that the fewer they would have to capture by force afterward. What a pain in the ass.