“You supposed to be soldiers or masseuses?” Boram said, spitting blood into the face of the closest one. “Why don’t you put some weight behind those punches, you pussy.”
“Enough, you fools,” the lieutenant said. “You five hold him. You, corporal, go get the staking hammer from the carriage.”
To everyone’s horror, Boram was bludgeoned nearly to death with the iron sledgehammer that the men used to drive tent stakes into the ground. When he finally shut up, and it was a long time before that happened, they drove his sword into the ground and lashed his hands to the hilt. Zakk was then pulled from the cart. As she struggled, the soldiers brought her out in front of Boram and stripped the clothes from her.
“I can see that you care nothing for your own well-being,” the officer announced. “That’s fine. Maybe you can find pain only in the torment of others. Allow me to show you what you have missed while you were asleep.”
“Don’t…” Boram said, coughing up blood and teeth. “I’ll stop… I’ll stop it all, just don’t…”
“You, you and you,” the officer said, pointing at Garret and two other Saban soldiers. “All at once… don’t hold back.”
“Do you want me to scream, you bastard?” Boram yelled, getting to his feet. “I’ll fucking scream for you! I’ll do anything you want, just stop!”
“Just watch, that’s all I want from you.”
Raegith and the others couldn’t even believe that Boram could stand at that point, yet he leaned his head back and howled like a tormented demon. His face reddened and the veins bulged in his neck. Suddenly a voice called out from the shadows.
“Lieutenant, what in the Fates is happening here?!” Pyrrhus came into view from the north on top of his bird-like mount and slid off, approaching the Saban leader with a horrified expression. “You were supposed to escort these prisoners to Galveronne as they were! Tell me your feeble Saban brain can comprehend such simple orders!”
The three men standing over Zakk, removing their pants, didn’t move. Everyone seemed to be at a loss for why and how the mage was there. Pyrrhus tied his mount off to a tree and began arguing with the leader. After berating the man endlessly for his carelessness, Pyrrhus ordered all of the men to their tents for the night except Garret, who would put the girl back into the cart and take the first watch.
“What about your own accommodations, sir?” the lieutenant asked, looking back at the mage’s mount. “I can have two of the men set up…”
“I’ll be fine, Lieutenant. I want your men put down for the night, immediately. If I had not come back when I did, you would have killed our only evidence of the conspiracy… for your own sick pleasures!”
The men went about settling down, cramming into two tents between them as Garret untied Zakk and hauled her to the back of the cage. Pyrrhus followed him, yelling at the others to back away, lest they be burned. Garret sneered at Raegith, seeing the boy fume at Pyrrhus’s presence. As the man unlocked the cage, he chided the boy.
“Our fun with the girl might be over, but seeing that look on your face makes it worth it, you little shit,” Garret laughed. “What’s wrong, you miss your blue bitch?”
Garret swung the back of the cart open to shove Zakk in and Pyrrhus gripped the man on the shoulder at the same time, startling the man. Flames arched out from the mage’s fingers and raced over the Saban in lines of bright orange.
“That blue bitch was a Faeir and my personal Stone Seer,” Pyrrhus whispered into the man’s ear as he covered his mouth to keep him from screaming. The flames ate into him, burning through to his bones in seconds. “She was a flawed creature and a slave, but worth fifty of your kind in trade.”
Pyrrhus kept his hand clamped over the soldier’s mouth, but as the flames burned through his neck, a gargled cried escaped through the hole in his throat. Pyrrhus pulled the shackle keys from Garret’s crumbling husk with one hand and threw a small dot of fire at Boram, cutting through the man’s bindings just as the other Sabans came out to see what had happened to their companion. The closest ones raced right at Boram, as the others armed themselves and the lieutenant yelled orders to kill Pyrrhus.
Boram swatted one of them away with his left hand as if he were knocking a sack of sugar from a counter top. The man grunted as he flew into the air and tumbled across the dirt ten feet away. The man to his right yelped quickly as the unleashed warrior grasped his entire head in his right hand and pushed downward. The yelping man was crushed like a can, even making the same noise as his armor crinkled with the force. Before the crunched man had even started screaming, Boram had a hold of the third. Lifting him off the ground and over his head, the warrior brought the screaming soldier down across his knee, breaking him in half.
“Fight!” Pyrrhus said, flinging the shackle keys at Ebriz.
Tavin snatched the keys out of the air, broke loose and was out the door in an instant. The maddened hunter bolted out of the mobile cell and took all of two steps before he was crashing into a soldier coming around the side of the carriage. Raegith dropped out of the cart as Pyrrhus zipped around to the other side of the carriage to disappear just as a Saban soldier rounded the corner to attack the escaping prisoners.
Raegith was hit from the side and taken to the ground. Two Saban soldiers had tackled him and he did not have the energy to fight them off. Then a nimble hand reached down and wrapped around one of the men’s windpipe like grasping a reed. With a quick twist, the man’s esophagus snapped and he went into convulsions. The other man looked up to see what had happened to his companion and Ebriz, like a strike of lightning, reached down and shoved his two fingers into the man’s eyes up to his knuckles. The man stopped what he was doing and obeyed the command of death given to him by the bard.
“What the hell was that, Ebriz?” Raegith asked, clearly astonished by the otherworldly skills the man had just displayed.
“Two-thirds of my favorite joke,” Ebriz said without a hint of a smile. He reached his hand down to help Raegith to his feet. “More coming!”
Raegith acted. He didn’t take time to figure out what was happening or even to unlock the shackles around his wrists. The prince spun on his heels and raced to the back of the carriage just as two barely clothed Sabans came out into the mix, hands held out before them. The prince lifted from the ground and collided with the closest one. Something snapped and Raegith wasn’t sure if it was from him or the man, as they both started crying out as soon as they hit the ground.
Raegith had no weapon and the man was already trying to gain the advantage over him. The prince got behind the man and wrapped the shackle chain around his neck. Keeping his face close to the man’s back to prevent a headbutt, Raegith grunted and pushed with his shoulder as he pulled the chain with all of his strength.
Everything was a blur after that; at least it seemed to be when he looked back on it later. Tavin was shoving a soldier’s sword deeper into his lifeless corpse. Boram had a dead soldier with a destroyed face by the legs and was swinging him like a mace at the lieutenant, knocking the unfortunate officer into the air. The airborne man hung in the sky, sprawling and waving frantically until Boram’s return swing with the mush-faced corpse slammed him to the ground. Using the corpse like a sledgehammer, Boram pounded the lieutenant into the dirt.
The rest of the attackers tried to flee, but a wall of flames blocked their passage. The man beneath Raegith convulsed and he pulled harder until his head swam and he collapsed. Men yelled and he thought he heard Zakk screaming something odd, but he could not be certain it was her. He had not eaten in days and had expended the last of his energy fighting the Saban below him. Now he struggled to stay conscious. Ebriz grabbed him and helped him to his feet. He managed to find Zakk, walking out towards Boram as the man dropped to his knees. Then he saw Onyx, walking in front of him. He reached out to her, to feel her skin one more time, but there was nothing there. Then the fog of exhaustion lifted a bit and he was able to see clearly. Onyx was gone from his sight, but another Faeir was
there.
“I do not think the Saban will make it,” Pyrrhus said as he approached Ebriz and Raegith. “Flames, everything is falling apart, isn’t it?”
“You should know, Pyrrhus,” Raegith hissed. “Was it not you who brought this upon us?”
“I know what you’re thinking, prince. I was not here for this, but I came as soon as I could. Without my ruse I would have been in the cage with you, where I could be of no use. I was always coming back for you, it just took time.”
“It took three days!” Raegith yelled, coming to his feet. “Do you have any idea what these men did during those three days? What they did to Zakk?”
“I couldn’t have known they would go so far,” Pyrrhus replied. “I tried to keep Garret from joining this escort, you saw that.”
“Why don’t we all just take a moment and clean up this mess, shall we?” Ebriz said. “Pyrrhus, your help is most welcome, but right now I think the boy and girl need some space.”
“Of course. Tend to the big Saban, prince. He is in terrible shape and without Onyx… well, I’m afraid these are his last moments. I will round up the few who threw down their arms for mercy.”
Raegith approached the hunched form of Zakk. She was bent over Boram. The man did not move and his face was drained of color.
“He’s gone, Raegith,” Zakk sobbed. “Look at him. Look at what they’ve done. Even in his last moments he was smiling, though. The stupid oaf didn’t even know he was dying, he just cracked a joke about me crying like a girl and drifted off.”
“I’m sure he knew, Zakk. Boram wasn’t the kind to make a big deal out of anything. He saved us, so I’m sure he was just happy.”
Zakk laid her head on the man’s chest and wept. Raegith did not speak to her, nor did he touch her or try to comfort her. He just let her cry and wondered where his tears were in that moment. After a few minutes, the girl sniffled and wiped her eyes, composing herself.
“What are they doing, then?” Zakk asked, nodding towards the rest of them.
“Deciding what to do with the survivors. They are asking for mercy.”
“Mercy?” Zakk asked, lifting her head to stare at the remaining men. “How can they even fucking say that word after what they’ve done?”
“Ebriz!” Raegith yelled. “Will you humor me a moment?”
“Of course, my prince,” Ebriz replied. “What do you ask? A joke, perhaps? I would think this a bit of an inappropriate time, but I can…”
“Strip the prisoners… down to the skivvies. Check the carriage for some shovels. I’ll be over in a second to deliver my speech.”
“Whatever you say!” Ebriz said, directing the prisoners.
“Can you stand?” Raegith asked Zakk.
“I may need some help walking,” she said, letting Raegith help her to her feet and draping an arm over his shoulder. As they started toward the shelter of the carriage, Zakk stopped him. “The sword! We can’t leave it.”
Raegith hesitated, worrying over the encumbrance of the monstrous piece of otherworldly steel. Then he turned back towards it. “Okay.”
Chapter 11
The surviving Sabans toiled all night, breaking through the hard, dry earth to dig a grave for Boram. Zakk was clothed, fed and allowed to rest through the night, though she fought it for several minutes. She was inexplicably afraid that Raegith would release the prisoners once they were done. She should not have feared, however. The prisoner’s blubbering and cries for mercy were met with savage beatings and release was never an option.
Ebriz and Raegith found some harsh Saban spirits in the carriage, along with some smoking leaves, and did their best to memorialize their lost friends in the fashion that they saw appropriate. Ebriz allowed Raegith some sleep after a time. Pyrrhus kept his distance out of respect. Tavin had disappeared sometime after the fighting. As unhinged as he had become, no one expected him to return.
Once in the carriage, the exhaustion and remorse fell upon him like an avalanche and his tears finally came. Thoughts of Boram and Tavin and even Hemmil flooded into his mind and made his jaw ache at the loss. He had tried to prepare himself for something like this; for the loss, but it was completely different than what he imagined. His entire group had died or been torn away from him and it was not by some evil force from beyond the Hell Cliffs that had done it; it was his own people. He had nearly died twice, had watched his closest friends murdered and witnessed his only peer ravaged and all by the people he was supposed to be saving from disaster.
“I’m supposed to be saving these people?” he whispered to himself. “These people who rape and torture… over slights? Over offenses? These people of Rellizbix, whose entire lives have been handed to them by a lie that gives them victory and peace? They know such little strife that their kings must arrange wars to fight, yet they need salvation?! Who will save me from them?!”
Raegith quieted his voice as Zakk stirred beside him. He looked down at her bruised and gashed face. She was also a child of misfortune, like Onyx and himself. She had hidden who she was, for years, just to survive. There was no place for her, as she was. This veritable paradise that was Rellizbix was nothing of the sort and Raegith saw it now. If there were parts of the world where people like him did not suffer; where all were embraced and the pain he had experienced at the hands of these people was absent, he did not want to know of it. It did not matter to him anymore.
Ebriz didn’t wake Raegith and Zakk up until well past morning. He looked a bit haggard, but otherwise well and chipper.
“I’ve managed to throw together some breakfast from the supplies in here,” the bard said. “These damn Sabans demand to eat like nobles even on the trail.”
“What of the dickheads?” Raegith asked.
“Oh, still alive,” Ebriz replied. His demeanor changed suddenly. “What are your thoughts on that?”
“It’s up to Zakk.”
“Line them up,” she said, pulling on a pair of boots she scavenged from the dead. “I want to see them.”
The prisoners were lined up, just as Zakk asked, and the three companions sat in front of them, eating their breakfast. Zakk stared each of them down, taking her time with her meal and not saying a word. Finally, when they were all three finished, she got to her feet, threw down her bowl and went to the rear of the carriage. When she returned, she had a short sword in her hand.
The man in the center, a middle-aged, clean-shaven Saban with a handsome, unblemished face, backed up and cringed as she came at him. His hands were bound behind his back and when he dropped to his knees to plead for his life, Zakk kicked him right in the mouth. Raegith and Ebriz hauled the man to his feet and held him fast before Zakk.
“Mercy, you ask? If you had kept quiet I might have overlooked you, but I remember your fucking voice. What was it you said to me? Oh yeah…” She jammed the blade into the man’s stomach and leaned in close to speak into his ear. “Take it all in, bitch.”
Zakk twisted her hips and shoved harder, driving the blade into the man’s gut nearly to the hilt. Then she released and turned away from them to go see to the grave.
“What about these two?” Raegith asked.
Zakk did not even turn. She only waved the question off as she dropped down at the half-buried greatsword that marked the warrior’s grave.
Raegith looked at Ebriz before turning to the Saban next to him.
“You know, you assholes taught me a lot of fun stuff to do to prisoners. I’ve been living in a damn dungeon my whole life; I had no idea the amusement I could have at the sake of someone that is entirely at my mercy,” Raegith said with a smile that made the man piss himself. “But that sick shit is the product of a Saban mind. I am not Saban. Be thankful for that.”
Raegith kicked the Saban’s legs out from underneath him and dropped him face-first into the dirt. He pulled the short sword free from the dying Saban and then drove the blade down into the prone Saban’s neck, killing him clean and swiftly. Ebriz dropped his captive and Raegtih dispatched
him in a similar manner. When he was done he looked out to where Zakk knelt near Boram’s grave.
“They might have deserved worse,” Ebriz said. “You executed these two prisoners with honor. That is noble, prince.”
“Screw nobility, Ebriz. They kept you and Zakk, Boram and Tavin alive this entire time to torture me. There was no other purpose for it, but look where it got them. I won’t play with my enemy like a pet and afford it the chance to bite my throat.”
“We should gather some things for the journey,” Ebriz said. He kicked at the dirt a little bit and sighed. “I miss my flute.”
“You’ll need this,” Pyrrhus said, approaching and handing a scroll off to Ebriz. “It’s the mandate from King Helfrick bidding the Emperor to raise his armies and invade Rellizbix. The mission is still on, Bard.”
“Aye that it is, Mage, but you act as if you are no longer a part of it.” Ebriz took the scroll from Pyrrhus and eyed him carefully.
“The mission is the only thing that has not changed. Falfa has grown dangerous and in his ignorance he will most assuredly alert more people to what he thinks is our treachery. I have to make sure he does not make a spectacle of this mission. King Helfrick must be made aware that we are compromised.”
“King Helfrick, or the Council?” Ebriz asked.
Pyrrhus paused to choose his words carefully at the Twileen’s accusation. “I see you do not completely trust me, Ebriz. I suppose I don’t blame you after what has happened, but I did my best with the situation presented to me. I will tell you this much. I serve the crown, not the Council. Not many Faeir would make that claim and none would lie about such.”
“He’s right, Ebriz,” Raegith said. “My father has to be warned, especially if what you spoke of to me is coming to pass. Pyrrhus can take Zakk back with him…”
Beyond the Hell Cliffs Page 11
