by Dante King
The small stone knight hopped down from Uzax’s leg and shuffled to the doorway, forlornly. “I was only trying to help, sire.”
“I’m sure you were. Any more help from you and I might have corpses instead of prisoners to question.” Ben was tempted to ask how Sir Gallant the Younger had managed to tie Uzax up in a chair. He was almost impressed at that feat, but he didn’t want to encourage the devious statue.
Ben stepped into the cell, holding his breath to avoid inhaling the stench of Uzax’s filthy quarters. He would have to ensure one of the Gallants cleaned it more often. Summoning his mana, Ben used Healing Touch to heal the wounds on Uzax’s leg.
“Sir Gallant the Elder, get the prisoner cleaned up, if you would be so kind,” Ben said. “I will question him once you have finished.”
“At once, sire.” The larger knight stepped in. He cut the Pyromancer’s bonds, but not the gag around his mouth. He was wise enough not to give the vulgar mage a chance to speak. He picked up the prisoner, taking him away to facilities deeper within the prison complex.
Ben returned to Lexi’s cell. Now that he’d ensured Uzax wasn’t at risk of dying, he wanted to learn what he could from her. He suspected the hawkwoman would be more helpful than the Pyromancer.
Lexi was sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs weaved underneath her body and her eyes closed. The hawkwoman’s hands were held up, one open palmed and the other with fingers pointed up and pinched together. Ben’s first instinct was to get her attention, but he held back. He wasn’t sure what he was witnessing, but it struck him as important—sacred, even.
He watched her for a time, noticing that her mouth was moving quietly. It seemed to Ben that she was in the middle of a prayer.
He decided to wait for her to finish. It didn’t take long. After a few moments, Lexi made a slow, circular gesture in front of her body, then placed one hand on one shoulder, followed by the other hand on the other.
She opened her eyes and smiled. He expected her to look a bit more nervous, with her captor paying her a visit. The beastkin monster hunter was certainly enigmatic.
“Not interrupting anything?” he asked.
“No, not at all. Just finishing my prayers.”
Ben was curious, and a part of him wanted to ask her more about her religion. But there were more pressing matters to attend to.
His eyes went over to the large tome on the bed. “Getting some reading done?”
She smiled again and placed one hand on the book.
“It’s a history of the region,” she said. “When you told me I could access your library, there wasn’t a chance I’d say ‘no.’ I never pass up an opportunity to learn.”
Ben sat down on the stool opposite her. “What do you know about the ambitions of the Xurian Realm, Lexi?”
The Sunstone Cleric shrugged. “We bounty hunters are treated with disdain by anyone with authority in the Realm. And the rumor mongers are never to be trusted. I haven’t heard anything I would believe.”
“You realize that your usefulness to me depends on the information you can provide, don’t you?” Ben wouldn’t harm the woman without a good cause, but he needed information from her, and he wasn’t above a veiled threat at this point.
“You don’t strike me as the sort of man who would harm someone without reason, Benzhameen.” The hawkwoman sat confidently as she spoke.
“See that you don’t give me a reason then,” Ben said. She was right, of course, but he wasn’t yet convinced he had no reason. She had hunted monsterkin, after all.
“What is it you wish to know, my lord?” Lexi asked.
“You call me ‘my lord’? Don’t think you’ll get my guard down with flattery. It’s only been a short time that you’ve been kept here, so I highly doubt you’ve become loyal to me since then. Especially not while I’ve kept you prisoner.” Ben waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “Have you ever seen a tower like the one we’re in now?”
“No, my lord, I had not known that a tower like this could exist until I saw this one. There are more?” He noticed she’d called him “my lord” again. Ben’s first instinct was to chastise her again, but he suppressed it.
“There are,” Ben assured her. “Four more towers have risen up in the south, as high as this one.”
“How could this be?” she said. “When I thought you were a servant of the Xurian Realm, I would have assumed they had given you this tower. But that is not so. Who else could have acquired the power of the Forgotten Ruler?”
“I suspect the Xurian Realm must have acquired the relics of my former power from my dungeons and somehow activated them.” Ben was hardly revealing secrets here. Lexi would see the towers with her own eyes if she ever saw the light of day again, and would no doubt reach the same conclusion.
“Strange that the towers would appear so soon after yours did,” Lexi said.
“That’s what I thought,” Ben said. Evidently, Archmage Kamila had not been the only one concerned with the return of the Forgotten Ruler’s power. The fact that Lexi noted the coincidence made him think she was intelligent. It might pay well to question her further.
“What were you doing with the likes of Adremor and Uzax?” Ben asked. He had the suspicion that she wasn’t like them, but he still had no proof.
A cloud passed over the hawkwoman’s face. “When my family was enslaved by bounty hunters, they weren’t sure what to do with me. They had enough whores already, they said, and I was stronger than the other slaves, although I was only thirteen at the time.”
Ben couldn’t help a grimace of distaste.
“My family was killed on the road along the way, in an accident. One of the bullocks went mad when they tried to load monsterkin onto the wagon, and it ran them over, killing them all.”
“I’m sorry,” Ben said in a low voice.
Lexi gave him a sorrowful smile. “It’s been so long, I hardly feel the pain anymore.”
Ben didn’t know what to say. He waited for her to continue.
“There was nothing holding me back after that, so I tried to escape. When they saw how well I could fight, they decided to make me a bounty hunter as well.”
“That seems like a strange decision,” Ben said.
“I can still hear how they laughed, proud of the cruelty of the assignment.”
“How did they get you to stay? Why are you still a bounty hunter now?”
Lexi sighed, her shoulders slumped. “I knew if I tried to escape, they would only track me down and kill me. I decided to survive. To devote myself to the learning of magic. To become the very thing I hated. To become a mage. This was the only way I could one day have vengeance on those who had slain everyone I once loved.”
Ben almost felt a twinge of pity and admiration for the woman’s determination in the face of such adversity. Then he remembered that she had hunted monsterkin.
“But you hunted innocents,” Ben protested. “You slaughtered other families, just like your own.”
Lexi’s eyes widened slightly, as though Ben had struck a nerve, but in the end she shrugged. “If I had not hunted them, others would have. I am sure I was more merciful than others would have been.”
Ben was still trying to understand this enigmatic beast woman, and he wasn’t satisfied with her answer. “You know what it is to be different, to be shunned and despised for what you are. How could you kill and enslave the monsterkin for exactly the same sin?”
Lexi gave an amused, though troubled, smile. “You are clearly not from this world. You might once have been the great Benzhameen, but that was long ago, and you have forgotten much.”
Was she calling him the Forgotten Ruler? “You think my former self would have viewed things differently?”
“In this world, only the strong survive. If you are weak, like a beastkin, you must join the strong, or die. If you were of this world, you would not speak of resisting the powerful to save the weak.”
Ben didn’t know if someone had revealed his origins to the beastkin wo
man, told her that he was from another world, or if she had simply guessed. It didn’t matter, there was no one she could tell these secrets to.
“I disagree, Lexi,” Ben responded. “Those who rule the Xurian Realm are only powerful because they seized power. If the beastkin and monsterkin were given power, they could survive without joining the Realm.”
“And you would give them this power?” Lexi asked. She feigned indifference, but she leaned forward ever so slightly as she spoke.
“I wonder what it would happen if I went one step further,” Ben mused aloud. “If I gave the rulers of the Xurian Realm a taste of weakness. If they experienced what slavery is like from the other end.”
“You have lofty goals, Benzhameen.” The hawkwoman looked at him with wonder in her eyes. “I hope I can witness you achieving them.”
“Perhaps you can,” Ben said. “I don’t know what I will do with you yet, if I will ever let you out of here. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“I am sure you will make a fair decision,” the Sunstone Cleric asserted.
“First I have to make a decision about Uzax,” Ben said.
Lexi’s hopeful face instantly turned grim again.
“Do you think he would know anything about the towers?” Ben asked.
Lexi drew in a breath to speak, then suddenly closed her mouth, pursing her lips.
“What is it? Are you hiding something from me?” Ben wondered if he was wrong about the beastkin woman—was she really loyal to Uzax and the Realm?
“I fear what you would do to Uzax if you suspected he held some information that would be valuable to you.”
Ben laughed, as much in surprise as amusement. “Surely there is no love lost between you and the Pyromancer? If I’m right about him, he is a monster... I mean, he is evil.” He realized monster wasn’t the best choice of words in this context. He wondered how else he could describe someone as villainous and despicable as Uzax.
“You speak the truth,” Lexi acknowledged slowly. She paused again, looking as though she were trying to build up courage. She raised her yellow, hawk-like eyes to look straight into Ben’s. Her eyes looked haunted. “I have heard rumors about Uzax.”
“What kind of rumors?” Ben asked.
“They say he is father to half the monsterkin children in the north. They say he is as likely to hunt one of his own bastard children as not.”
Ben thought a moment about what this rumor could mean, and connected the dots. “He has his way with the monsterkin women? Forces himself upon them?”
There was a more straightforward way to ask this, but he refused to utter the word. He felt that something deep within him would crack if he allowed himself to speak it aloud, and then there would be no chance of questioning Uzax. In a matter of seconds, he would march to where Sir Gallant the Elder had taken the Pyromancer and Drain the life from him.
Lexi nodded. “I have heard their cries.”
“But he looked with such disdain at the nymphs, he even said he would refuse to touch them. He was going to sell them to someone else in the capital.” Ben’s words were, of course, spoken without much sincerity. Despising someone didn’t mean you wouldn’t take your pleasure from them.
Lexi laughed, but there was no mirth in her voice. “He could hardly give you and Adremor concrete proof of his depravity, could he?”
Ben tried to block the images that came to his mind of Uzax hurting the nymphs and then hunting down their children, but the images came nonetheless. His knuckles went white as he gripped the edges of the stool he was sitting on.
“I regret not doing anything about his crimes now,” Lexi added.
“So you should,” Ben said. But he refrained from saying anything further. He knew it wouldn’t achieve anything. It wouldn’t undo the evil Uzax had committed.
“If I had another chance, I would. . . I would. . . “ she trailed off.
“You would what? What would you do, Lexi?” Ben asked. She had lived a self-hating existence, that much was clear. He hoped that her saying how she would have stopped Uzax from hurting other beastkin would make her see things differently.
Lexi opened her mouth as if to speak, but then she shook her head, reason—or, perhaps, indoctrination—forcing her to reconsider her words.
“I am a cleric,” she said finally, “so I should not think such things.”
“What things?”
“If I were to give into my base thoughts, I would tell you that I wish for Uzax to suffer like no man has ever suffered. But not to the point of death. I would want him to be brought there, then to have his body restored with a Healing Touch, only to be brought back again to death’s door. Over. And over. And over again.” The cleric’s yellow eyes blazed.
Ben shook his head in wonder. He didn’t quite know what to make of this revelation. One thing was certain: she wasn’t in league with the Pyromancer.
“But you’re a cleric,” Ben said, “so you wouldn’t give in to such things.”
“That is correct,” Lexi said. She dropped her eyes to the floor.
Ben wasn’t sure what the Sunstone Clerics believed or what their duties were, but it appeared that she already felt shame for revealing such bloodthirsty desires.
“But Lexi,” Ben said. “I am no cleric.”
Lexi nodded her head, solemnly. Ben left her with those words, certain she would comprehend his meaning.
He turned to the doorway. Sir Gallant the Elder was just approaching, a freshly washed Uzax in tow. Nipper trotted behind, his eyes tracking the Pyromancer malevolently.
Ben looked back at Lexi before leaving the room. “I take it, then, that Uzax does have information I would find useful?”
Lexi raised her eyes again. This time a barely noticeable smile formed on her lips. “Why don’t you ask him for yourself?”
Ben smiled in return and left the beastkin’s cell, sliding the glass door shut behind him. It was time to do just that.
He strode up to the gagged prisoner, who glared at him insolently. “What do you know of the towers that rose in the south? Will you tell me what you know?”
Uzax drew back his head and blew a gob of spit at Ben. He was unable to put his lips together, so the spit didn’t travel far.
Ben put out a hand and summoned fire in his palm, evaporating the spit. He was much faster at using his magic than he had been when he’d first drained this spell from Uzax.
“I thought you’d be tight-lipped,” Ben said. “I wonder how long you can continue like that with your lips removed.”
Uzax’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t say anything. He made a muffled noise of surprise that sounded a bit like choking.
“Alright, Sir Gallant, let’s take him to the torture chambers.”
“They are still locked, are they not, sire?”
“They are.” He shot a glance at Uzax. “But I have a feeling the doors will open now that I have a need.”
Chapter 3
Uzax thrashed like a madman in Sir Gallant the Elder’s grip. As far as Ben could tell, he was, in fact, a madman—but a plea of insanity wouldn’t stop him from being punished for his crimes here.
The Pyromancer had barely eaten the entire week, not for want of feeding. Ben had ensured that he still had enough to keep himself from wasting away, which was better than his women said the man deserved. Ben still held to the customs of his own world though. He wanted proof of the man’s guilt before punishing him.
In spite of not eating, the crazed mage still thrashed about with enough fury to cause Sir Gallant the Elder great difficulty dragging him along. Ben couldn’t see why Uzax bothered struggling. It wouldn’t save him from being questioned, and there was no fear in his eyes. He seemed to be motivated by nothing but spite.
As they passed Lexi’s cell, Uzax turned his head and hollered at the glass door, his eyes wide with rage. His words were totally unintelligible, the gag still binding his mouth.
“Is there something you wanted to say to your companion?” Ben aske
d, his voice cold as he addressed the Pyromancer.
Uzax looked up at him and tried to spit again.
“Save your voice for answering my questions.” Ben held out his hand and drained some of Uzax’s physical energy.
The mage slumped, his strength significantly reduced. Sir Gallant hauled him along the hallway easily now.
As they left the corridors of cells and entered the torture chamber floors, the glass walls grew dark. The periodically placed glowing crystals that lit these floors shed a dull red glow, which cast crazy shadows as Ben and the others moved down the hall.
They reached the great black doors that barred the entrance to the torture chambers. The last time Ben had approached these doors, they were locked, declared unavailable by the tower.
The obsidian doors stood over eight feet tall, arching to a point at the top. The black glass was adorned with images of torture. Iron maidens gaped, baring the spikes within. Racks stretched prisoners beyond the limits of human limbs. Other unfortunates were roasted over crackling flames, or dissected by masked figures. No doubt that the designs had been placed there to give victims a glimpse of their horrible fates.
Ben waited until Sir Gallant came to stand beside him, the prisoner roughly clasped by the shoulders. He put his hand to the large knocker in the center of the right hand door. A message appeared in his vision:
Welcome to the Torture Chambers of the Forgotten Ruler
The words faded, and Ben realized his theory was right: when faced with a need, the sections of the tower that were previously closed off to him would open.
The doors swung open.
The first chamber was a circular room. The walls were as black as the doors that had opened. The floor was lit by a pattern of bright red glass, depicting the horrifying face of a monster, the sort Ben would have expected to find in a medieval manuscript.
The round chamber contained seven other doors, evenly spaced around the room. Each door was made of opaque red glass, moulded to depict some form of torture, presumably the type found in the room beyond.
