Alliance

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  “I was angry,” I said. “I meant none of it. Even if I did, that gives ye no right to break into my brother's house and hold him hostage on his own property. 'Tis a wicked thing, but I suppose I should not be shocked, knowing how terrible ye Smugglers are.”

  Orelia folded her arms across her chest. “We only roughed him up a little. Want to see his face?”

  Before I could respond, Orelia snaps her fingers. One of the Smugglers—likely a new member, for I did not recognize his face—grabbed Sura's hair and jerked his head up. I grimaced upon seeing his face.

  Sura's face normally looked somewhat like mine, albeit with a stronger jaw and a wider forehead. Now, however, it looked like beaten meat, with dried blood covering much that was not already split open. His nose was broken and his left eye was swollen shut. A drip of some liquid that I could not identify from a distance leaked from his nose and fell onto his lap. He did not appear to be conscious, for he failed to show any signs of recognition in his eyes when his head was raised.

  “Sura,” I said. I glared at Orelia. “What did ye do to him?”

  “Just roughed him up a bit is all,” said Orelia with a smile. “Because Noman hasn't forgotten you, Apakerec, or how you used your knowledge of us to help the Knights of Se-Dela ruin our operations in this region.”

  I hesitated when she mentioned Duka Noman, the leader of the Red Ring Smugglers. 'Twas a dangerous man—not as dangerous as some, but dangerous enough that it was usually unwise to anger him. I had not expected to hear from him ever again after I joined the Knights of Se-Dela, although I perhaps should have expected he would send someone after me at some point. I simply did not expect him to send someone after Sura, however, which was the most vile and wicked thing that Noman had done to me.

  “And I do not regret it,” I said. “Ye must have known I was never a loyal member of your petty little criminal gang. My allegiance has always been to the Old Gods, first, and to my family, second.”

  “Noman doesn't really care,” said Orelia, shaking her head. “He told me he wants you dead. So excuse me if I don't show much interest in your principles and goals.”

  “But that is why I left the Smugglers and became a Knight,” I said. “The Knights of Se-Dela offered me hard evidence of the location of mine sister, evidence ye Smugglers failed to give me. Though I imagine ye must know that already, as Noman is quite the well-informed man, is he not?”

  “He is,” said Orelia. “About the only thing he doesn't know is where you've been for the past two and a half weeks. Even our contacts within the Order of the Knights of Se-Dela didn't know where you were.”

  I bit my lower lip. Two and a half weeks ago I had gone to Xeeo in search of my sister … and found not only her, but a new purpose for mine life, as well. 'Twas why I had left the Order of the Knights of Se-Dela, for there was no way that the Knights would ever understand what we at Reunification were attempting to do.

  “Ye need not know of the reasons for my absence,” I said, putting on a brave face so that they would not sense any weakness from me. “'Twas private business.”

  Orelia shrugged. “Noman doesn't really care. All he cares about is the fact that you've gone a full year now without getting killed, even though that's what a dirty traitor like you deserves.”

  “Yes, I did indeed find it strange how ye avoided me when I was a Knight,” I said. “Why was that?”

  “Because the Red Ring Smugglers can't just waltz on in and kill any Knights we want to, obviously, even with our contacts in the Order,” said Orelia. Then she leaned forward. “I noticed you said 'was a Knight.' Are you not a Knight any longer? Who are you working for now?”

  “'Tis none of your business, she-elf,” I said. “Or Noman's, for that matter.”

  Rage burned in Orelia's eyes like a blazing inferno, but then she pulled back and returned standing upright. “Fine, fine. As I said, Noman doesn't care and neither do I. The point is that we have you where we want you, which is to say, alone and unable to escape from this place.”

  I looked around me. I had not noticed, but as we spoke, Orelia's fellow Smugglers had been surrounding me. Some stood by the sofa, others by the bookshelves, but none of then left any openings for me through which I could escape. Even the door was blocked off by a large human man, who looked like he might have been part dwarf if his bulk meant anything.

  All the while, the stink of super speed filled my nostrils, though as far as I could tell, none of these Smugglers were on the drug right now. 'Twas a tragedy; not because I liked the drug, but their staying off the drug made them much harder for me to fight.

  “I still do not see why ye dragged my brother into this,” I said, addressing Orelia again. “He had nothing to do with my bad mistakes, which is often what I think of ye Smugglers as. 'Tis a great injustice to beat him so.”

  “Because we knew you would come back to see your brother sooner or later,” said Orelia. She gestured at the man holding Sura's head up, who let Sura's head fall down back onto his chest. “We originally came here because we thought your brother might know where you went, but then we decided to make ourselves at home and wait here until you decided to come by and visit him.”

  “Ye knew of mine … testy relationship with mine brother,” I said. “How did ye know I would ever come back?”

  “We didn't,” Orelia admitted. “It was more of a coincidence, really. While we were interrogating your brother, our lookout came in and said he saw you coming up to the mansion. We all hurried to hide in here so we could work together to get you when you arrived.”

  “I see,” I said. “A devious trick of yours, though I am not shocked, for I have come to expect such deception from ye.”

  “Good to know you still remember us,” said Orelia. “For a while there, I was starting to think that you had forgotten all about us. Glad to see that my fears were misplaced.”

  “It matters not whether I remember ye or whether I forget ye,” I said. I nodded at my skyras sword, the heat of its blade rolling over mine face. “I will chop down each and every one of ye and then place your heads on the fence outside as a warning to all who would dare to harm my family.”

  “You certainly sound serious enough to do all of that,” said Orelia. “Unfortunately for you, Noman said that we're not supposed to let you have a fair fight.”

  She snapped her fingers again, and the man who had grabbed Sura's head now drew a long, serrated knife from his leather holster. He then placed the knife's blade under Sura's chin, close enough that he could slit mine brother's throat if he so desired.

  “You have two options,” said Orelia. She held up two fingers. “One, you fight us, and we kill your brother in cold blood. We don't really have anything against him, but we know how much you care about him, so holding him hostage is quite logical, wouldn't you say?”

  I gritted my teeth. “What is mine other option, wench?”

  “Option number two,” said Orelia. A terrible smile came over her lips. “You drop that dangerous-looking skyras sword of yours and let us tear you apart piece by piece. I would have said you should also not scream, but I know I can't really expect that from you, so I'll take what I can get.”

  “Vile villains,” I snapped. “Monsters, the whole lot of ye. Cursed from your mother's wombs, never to—”

  “Does that mean you're going with option number one?” said Orelia, interrupting me as abruptly as if I had not been talking at all. “That's what it sounds like to me. I mean, it's your choice, but that really doesn't seem like a good choice to me, at least if you give a damn about your brother's life anyway.”

  I held my tongue, even though I had a thousand other curses I wished to hurl at these foul criminals. But I knew from experience that the Red Ring Smugglers were not the kind of monsters to make idle threats that they failed to follow up on. Nay, the Smugglers always killed who they said they would kill. 'Tis why I always worried about them coming after me when I was a Knight of Se-Dela. Now it is clear that I should have been wo
rrying about Sura, who is infinitely less capable of defending himself than I am of defending myself.

  “Nay,” I said. “I will not be going with the first option. I spoke rashly earlier.”

  “Option number two, then?” said Orelia. “It would be a lot more sacrificial, you know, maybe even sweet in its own way, although we elves tend to think sacrificing your life for someone else is pretty silly. Still, I know how you humans think, so I was just looking at it from your point of view.”

  I had forgotten how much Orelia rambled. 'Twas as annoying as a pebble in the heel of my boot, but I did not allow her rambling to distract me. For Orelia was a cunning she-elf, second only to Noman in the Red Ring Smugglers, and to let mine guard down around her for even a second was to invite death upon myself.

  But I could not go with either option. I did not want Sura to die, despite our estrangement, yet I did not want to die, either, for I had a grand Mission ahead of me that I could not abandon. I wished to reunite Sura with my sister and I, and I could not do that if I were dead.

  Yet, as I noted earlier, I knew that I could not count on the Smugglers bluffing. If I fought back, they would kill Sura without thinking twice about it. Even if I managed to defeat them all, Sura would still be dead. 'Twould be a pyrrhic victory, if even that.

  “We're waiting for your answer, Apakerec,” said Orelia. She glanced at the Smuggler holding the knife to mine brother's neck. “Or would you like us to choose for you? Personally I think option number one would be the best, as that would rid us of both of you, but—”

  “I am thinking,” I snapped. “Please, give me a few more minutes in which to think this over. Can ye grant me that much, at least?”

  “Well … fine,” said Orelia. “But only three minutes. Noman doesn't want us wasting time here, not when there are a lot of super speed shipments that need to be sent out and other enemies of his that need to be killed.”

  Three minutes 'twas hardly enough time for me to come up with a way out of this, but it was more than I thought she would give me, so I intended to make every second of that time count.

  I looked around the room in which I stood, looking for anything that could help me discover a third way out of this predicament. Sadly, all I saw was the Smugglers surrounding me on every side, looking eager to kill me, even though I knew not one of them personally. Still, the Smugglers were a rotten bunch and took any sort of betrayal as a personal slight against them, even if the traitor in question was not intending for it to be personal.

  If only there was something I could do … anything … but nay. It appeared as though I was indeed caught in a tangle, unable to escape with mine life. The Founder of Reunification would be terribly angry if I were to die, but what else was I to do? Let these beasts kill mine brother? Nay, 'twas an unthinkable idea.

  Seeing as I could not think of any way out of this situation alive, I pressed the tab on mine skyras sword again, making its energy blade retract into it. I placed the weapon at mine feet and kicked it toward Orelia in order to show the Smugglers that I truly had no plans to fight back.

  “Very well,” I said, looking at Orelia with as much hate as I could muster, for it was all I could do now. “Ye can have me. Just spare mine brother.”

  “The Red Ring Smugglers always keep their word, Apakerec,” said Orelia as mine skyras sword stopped at her feet. She snapped her fingers again. “Men, why don't you give Apakerec a concrete display of the Smugglers' 'no quitting' policy?”

  Her fellow Smugglers did not even wait for her to finish speaking before they began to advance on me. I would have picked up mine sword and fought them all off if I had had my sword, but I did not. All I could do was stand there and hope that I would die under the first blow, as I did not wish to remain aware of the sheer pain I was likely to experience when they took mine life.

  The Smugglers carried chains, knives, even swords, and more than a few had brass knuckles that turned their fists into the deadliest of weapons. Though all of them were different species, 'twas obvious how each one was looking forward to giving me the beating they believed I deserved for my crimes against them.

  I lowered mine head and closed mine eyes. Still I could hear them approaching, smell the stink of super speed wafting off their bodies and breath, listen as they grunted in pleasure at the thought of killing me. I prayed a quick prayer to the Old Gods to grant me protection from the Smugglers, though I knew better than to expect it.

  At that moment, however, the floor shook under mine feet. 'Twas a subtle movement, one I barely felt, but there was no mistaking it. However, I continued to think that it might have simply been the combined weight and movement of the Smugglers somehow making the floor shake when I remembered that the floors of this mansion were extremely stable and could handle far more weight than this before they would so much as stir.

  Then the floor shook again and I opened mine eyes and raised mine head. I was still surrounded on all sides by the Smugglers, yet they had all stopped now and were looking around the dimly lit room in confusion. Even Orelia was looked as if she was not certain what was happening, which told me that this was no trick of the Smugglers.

  “What was that?” said Orelia, the tips of her ears twitching, a sign that she was losing her cool. “An earthquake?”

  “Nay,” I said, shaking my head. “Northern Se-Dela has not suffered an earthquake in well over three centuries. I know not what this is.”

  The floor shook once more, this time so violently that I was nearly thrown off my feet. Some of the Smugglers lost their footing and fell on their behinds, while Orelia staggered over to the nearest desk and leaned against it for support. Sura, meanwhile, moved not an inch in his chair, even though a shake as violent as that should most certainly have toppled his seat.

  “Must be a trick,” said another Smuggler, the one in front of me. He pointed at me accusingly. “He grew up here, didn't he? I bet he's doing something to make the mansion shake so he can scare us.”

  “Foul villain, I am just as ignorant of the true nature of this development as ye are,” I said in annoyance. “Ye give me more credit than I would ever even give to mine self.”

  “He's lying,” said the Smuggler. He raised his knife at me, an evil smile spreading across his lips. “And I know the best way to make this stop: Kill him!”

  The Smuggler leaped toward me with frightening speed, his knife coming directly for mine throat. He leaped too fast for me to react, but even if I could, I would not have been able to stop his assault, for I was unarmed and helpless.

  But as it turned out, I did not need to defend myself, for a large shadowy hand launched down from the ceiling and snatched the Smuggler before he could harm me. The Smuggler had only a moment to cry out in alarm before the hand pulled him back up into the ceiling, where he vanished into the shadows.

  'Twas such an unexpected action that the rest of the Smugglers stood back, fear covering each of their faces. One of the Smugglers even turned and ran for the door, but another shadowy hand shot out from the threshold, grabbed him, and dragged him into the shadows kicking and screaming. His screaming was cut off the minute he vanished in the darkness and we saw no more of him.

  “What the hell is this wizardry?” said Orelia. Her cool facade had dropped away completely now; her eyes were wide, her ears twitching so fast that they were almost a blur. She had drawn her own weapon now, an elven blade, but she still resembled a frightened kitten more than a fearsome criminal. “What is this? I don't—”

  Another shadow hand extended from the ceiling and grabbed at her, but Orelia slashed at it with her sword. Unfortunately for her, however, her gesture was quite meaningless, for her sword cut through the hand harmlessly, allowing the shadow hand to grab her blade and yank it out of her hands. The shadow hand immediately retracted back into the ceiling, taking her shining elven sword with it.

  That did seem to be the last straw for many of her fellow Smugglers, for they dropped their weapons and ran to the walls screaming in horr
or. They did beat their fists and feet against the walls and door, making such racket that I could barely hear myself think. One Smuggler, a dwarf, even tried to hide under the sofa, although he was too fat and succeeded only in hiding his head under it; 'twas a useless gesture, for another shadow hand shot down from the ceiling and yanked him into the darkness before he could utter even one more word.

  Orelia dashed up to me and grabbed the collar of my cloak. She brought my face up to hers, allowing me to see her pale face and smell the stink of super speed on her breath. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, a common symptom of overuse of super speed.

  “What's going on here?” Orelia demanded. “Is this some kind of trick? What are you doing?”

  “She-elf, in all of the days I have lived here, I have never known my mansion could do anything like this,” I said.

  Another shadow hand shot down from the ceiling and grabbed one of the Smugglers by the leg. The Smuggler screamed so loudly that mine ears hurt before he was dragged upwards into the ceiling, where his scream was cut off as abruptly as that of the last screaming Smuggler who had been dragged into the darkness.

  Orelia let go of my collar and pushed me back. She stepped back, fear crossing her elvish features, as she said, “Your brother must know what's going on here.”

  She turned and dashed over to my brother before I could say another word. Sura was still unconscious and still, but now it seemed more terrifying than sad, for I did not understand how he could remain thus in the midst of all of this chaos.

  Orelia stopped in front of my brother and raised his head with one hand. She then slapped him so viciously that blood shot from his face onto the floor, which made me feel quite ill indeed.

  “Wake up,” Orelia demanded, her tone becoming increasingly hysterical. “Wake up, you bastard. What's going on here? Tell me!”

  Over Orelia's shoulder, I saw Sura's non-swollen eye flicker open. He blinked it several times, but rather than look around this place in fear and confusion, he smiled.