by Heath Pfaff
"He is Lowin Fenly, thought lost at Fell Rock, but we found him stumbling blindly through the woods shortly after the attack. His eyes hadn't healed yet, and so he'd become estranged in the chaos of the battle," Malice explained briefly, but I could hear the tension behind her words. She was feeling the strain of the moment as well.
Torment stared at us both for what seemed like a long time. "I see," she said after what felt an interminable pause. "I have heard of the boy, but I didn't know that he had come so far in such a short time." She was looking at the clawed hands coming from the ends of my sleeves, hands which I was trying desperately to keep still and relaxed. "I suppose it matters little. Do you have the proper papers?" Torment said, her probing eyes finally leaving me. I was relieved, and worried at the change of pace, for we had no papers to display.
There was agitation in Malice's voice when she spoke again. "The cloak is paper enough, Torment. We've come straight from the other research facility at a grueling pace, traveling hard for two weeks to arrive here as soon as possible. Stopping for papers would have extended our journey by nearly a month, and this is information that must be passed on for the security of our nation."
Torment eyed us both for a time before saying anything more, "You know the rules as well as any. You've been stationed here before." She was looking at Malice. "I will make an exception and let you through to see Froast, Malice, but the boy will have to wait in the dungeon until I can contact the king and verify your claim."
My heart began to hammer in my chest. I couldn't allow myself to be locked away for weeks, no matter what happened, my right hand twitched but I froze as my green-eyed companion spoke again.
Her voice had taken on a note of command. "That will not work. Lowin possesses information that Froast needs in order to get his work up to the level of ours. Simply delivering the cloak to him will do no good at all, just as the original cloaks would have never been figured out if not for the original plans. Lowin must be allowed to convey the memorized plans to Froast himself."
Torment's facial expression had soured, growing steadily more exasperated, "You do not have these plans written down somewhere?"
Malice laughed derisively. "You would have us carry a paper copy of plans that could give our enemy a distinct advantage over us in every battle? Surely you're joking?"
Tempest's face reddened in anger, and then she seemed to swallow the emotion, the heat of rage left her cheeks, and she smiled, "Fine, then you can warm the prison floor while the boy goes about your little errand."
Malice merely shrugged, ignoring the other woman's attempt to raise her ire, "That suits me fine."
My heart began beating fast in my chest once more. I did not want Malice to be thrown into the dungeon. I wasn't sure how I was to get to Kye, let alone how I could get to Kyeia and retrieve Malice as well. The situation was quickly getting out of hand. Malice placed a hand on my shoulder, and I found that I could feel a sense of calm flowing from her. I grabbed on to it and steadied myself. I looked to her face, and saw no worry in her eyes.
"Do what you must, for the kingdom. We will worry about the rest afterwards." I read the meaning beneath her words, and nodded my head, though it pained me to agree to such a separation. I promised myself that I would not leave the villa without both her and Kye in tow, even if I had to rip the entire place apart to retrieve them both.
"Good, since that is settled," Torment ordered the gates opened, and as they swung wide one of the other Knights of Ethan came forward and shackled Malice's hands. The shackles seemed to be merely in place for show, as the metal looked as though any true Knight, or Broken Sword for that matter, could shatter the restraints with a simple flexing of muscle. I watched Malice walk away, led toward the villa by the same Knight of Ethan that had shackled her. Seeing her chained filled my heart with rage, but I silenced the emotion and tried to force myself calm.
"Now, Fenly, about you," I turned my attention to Torment as she spoke, her eyes scanning me, as if judging my worth. She was not an attractive woman; for all that her features were pale and pristine. Something about the way her facial features came together made her seem cruel. "I shall send a messenger to the house and have one of Froast's assistants come to bring you to him." She stepped closer to me, and I restrained myself from stepping back, though she was far closer than I would have liked. The top of her head came only to my chin, but when she drew near I still felt as though she were looking down on me.
"Perhaps once your work with Froast is complete," her left hand slid up my thigh and one of her clawed, scaled fingers slid beneath the waist of my pants before she withdrew it and traced her lips with the tip of her tongue. "I can find some other purpose for you. Would you like that?"
I would not like that at all, I decided, but it would do no good to antagonize this particular Knight so I smiled with all the mischief I could muster and said, "Indeed. It is good to keep busy."
Torment giggled, a twisted sound somewhere between pleasure, excitement, and ill intent. She stepped back, calling for one of her guards as she did so. She wrote him a letter, and sealed it with a wax seal that seemed to heat magically as she pressed it to the paper before sending him off to the house to call upon one of Froast's assistants. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I knew was going to be a difficult time.
I tried not to flinch when Torment reached for the clasp on my sword belt, her hand feeling for more than the clasp in the process. "We can't have you going fully armed into the research area until you're mission is confirmed, can we?" She said with a mischievous smile. I forced what I hoped was a similar smirk of my own, and let her finish with the pretext of removing my sword belt. My flesh responded to the ministration of her touch unbidden by me, which only pleased her further. I ignored the heat in my cheeks until my sword belt finally came away. Without the added weight at my side, I felt naked, which only added to the awkwardness of the moment. I was, of course, still dangerous. Taking my sword away did little to make me less of a threat and so it was an indignity that I suffered, I knew, only so that my molester might enjoy herself. I took comfort in one thought - Torment seemed to believe Malice and I had come for the exact purpose we'd stated, for she was far from treating me like a possibly dangerous enemy which meant that she had sent Malice to the dungeon merely because she had the authority to do so. That fact made me like the overly-touchy Knight of Ethan less than I had before, and I had not liked her in the least. Her rows of razor edged teeth and the way "the voice" edged into everything she said did not help her appeal either. I was thankful when a thin human woman with hair that looked like it hadn't been properly wrangled in weeks finally came from the house to get me. As her eyes fell on me they widened in delighted amazement.
"This is wonderful!" She exclaimed, almost flying the distance that spanned between us. Her hands went to my cloak, and in a moment she was stretching the fabric and holding it close to her face, poking at it and even going so far as to reach inside my cloak to feel the cloth within. She seemed oblivious to the fact that I was still wearing it, or that I even existed.
Torment stepped forward and pushed the woman back, hard enough that the skinny human woman staggered several feet and nearly fell over. "Keep your hands to yourself, Tria." The black-eyed warrior's words were heavily laced with "the voice," and I saw Tria quiver as the force of them struck her. I remembered only too well what it felt like to have that voice fully leveled at you and my respect for Torment, if any had remained, evaporated entirely.
Tria dropped her head and stared at the ground, "Of course, Torment, my apologies."
Torment seemed pleased at the researcher's supplication, smiling in that way one smiles when they know they have the upper hand in a situation, and is not afraid to abuse that position. "Make sure that..." The black-eyed woman paused and looked at me, an eyebrow rising, "You've already received the Fell Beast. Certainly they call you something besides 'Lowin' at this point?"
"Noble." I said, letting the name given t
o me free from my lips before considering the risk I took in using my title from the Broken Swords. The wrong ears might recognize the name and bring me trouble, though I knew not what ears those might be. I also was not comfortable with the implications of the name. The more of the world I faced, the less I felt that "Noble" was a title that was mine to keep, but other than my name, it was all I had.
"Noble," Torment repeated, nodding her head, a look of actual approval in her eyes. "That is a good name."
"It was to be that, or 'Fool.'" I replied, remembering how Lucidil had referred to me as a "noble fool." I wondered what he would think of me now that I had killed one of his best men, thus betraying both him and the king. I certainly wasn't noble. Ever more I felt the fool.
Torment offered one of her distressing giggles before addressing Tria again, "Take Noble to Froast, but keep your whoring hands off him, Tria. Do you understand me? I want this one." There was a feral look about Torment's features as she spoke that put me ill at ease.
Tria bowed low. "Yes, Torment." Froast's assistant turned to me, her eyes lowered, and said, "If you would please follow me, Noble, I will show you to Master Froast."
"Yes," I assented, not wanting to risk saying anything that might further provoke the volatile Torment. Tria turned and began walking for the villa, and I fell in behind her.
"I'll find you later, Fool," Torment called from behind me, her voice dripping with something like seduction, but so heavily laced in "the voice" that Tria's entire body shook as we walked away. There was a terrible twisting of violence and lust in her words, something far darker than I had heard before. I didn't turn to reply, as I didn't want to see that terrible look I heard in her voice reflected in her black eyes. I looked instead to the sky as we walked, noting the shift in the sun's position and knowing that my time was running out. If I was lucky I would have a few hours left before someone from the bridge-gate thought to send warning to Tuskavar about Malice and myself. At that point, it would become a battle to free myself from a place so much risk had been taken to enter. What was worse, I was about to enter Froast's study with the miraculous new shifting cloak, and while I didn't know the first the thing about the workings of the fabric or how it was made, I would be expected to produce just that information.
With Tria leading the way, we easily gained access to the Villa. The guard at the door was a Knight of Ethan that I didn't recognize. He didn't acknowledge me as I entered, and I was just as happy. The chances were high that I would need to fight my way out, and it would be easier if I didn't know those I was to fight. Brutal's face, dressed in that final look of betrayal, had not stopped haunting me and I doubted that it ever would. I wondered how many more there would be before I was done fighting.
"Why are your eyes purple?" Tria asked, breaking my unproductive line of thought. "All the others that I have seen here have had black eyes. What makes you different?"
I hadn't anticipated any questions from Tria after she had been threatened by Torment. It showed a strong spirit, that she would risk possible reprisal just to suit her curiosity. I found it to be a noble, if somewhat foolish, characteristic. The question raised an issue that even I was not certain of. It occurred to me then that my presence in the same building that they were keeping my Bound One might be seen as alarming if someone were to make the connection. I was thankful that apparently Torment either had not realized the potential for trouble, or did not know that Kye was at Tuskavar. Malice had said that projects within the building were for the most part kept private. Maybe only those involved with her knew that she was being kept in the building. Another possibility, one that terrified me, was that she had already died and my presence was no longer an issue at all.
"Well, if you don't want to answer..." Tria said, and I realized I had gotten caught up in another round of thoughts and hadn't answered the crazy-haired, but otherwise pretty, woman I was following.
"Sorry, I have a lot on my mind." I stammered out my apology, and tried to collect my thoughts. "My eyes are different because I formed a stronger bond with my Bound One before the completion of the process, than most other Knights of Ethan do, or so it is believed." I added the last part after remembering the way Malice's eyes had taken on green hues after her night with me. Something else must be happening to account for the color, but whatever it was, I did not understand it. I wanted to, though.
"That is interesting," Tria said. "How was your bond closer to your Bound One than others? Were you close friends with him, or was their some trauma that brought you together..." She paused for a moment, and then turned to face me, her eyes bright with mischief, "Were you and your Bound One lovers?"
I laughed despite myself, "Your curiosity becomes you, but I don't think I'm going to answer any more questions about that at the moment."
Tria shrugged and resumed her course through the house. "It wouldn't bother me if you were lovers, you know. I'm like that too... I mean, I prefer my own, girls, over men. They're softer, and nicer." She seemed to stop to think for a moment, and then added, "Usually nicer... Torment is nice to no one, and she is too demanding."
I sensed deeper import behind her words, but did not pry into what was not my business. "The world is full of people like Torment," I said. "A woman by the name of Wisp is the reason I carry scars across my face."
"I would have thought a Knight of Ethan's scars would be won in grand battles against the enemies of the king, not in a roll in the hay gone wrong." Tria laughed as she walked.
"There was no hay-rolling with that one. She simply didn't like me and decided that life would be more pleasant without me," I replied, wincing in remembered pain. The scars on my face, now simply streaks of stiffened white skin across my visage, almost seemed to ache afresh.
"Really?" Tria seemed surprised, "Wisp is, from what I understand, quite popular here among the men. She is very 'friendly,' they say."
Tria's words shocked me. Wisp was one of the guards at Tuskavar. That was some information that I could have done without. Despite myself, and despite how strong I'd gotten, I felt a surge of fear course though me. She had come quite close to ending my life and part of that stayed with me. I took a few calming breaths and reminded myself that I would not be there long, and probably would not see Wisp at all. Tria seemed to have noticed my lapse into quietness.
"You're still pretty, for a boy," Tria said, and I could hear the smile on her mouth, though I couldn't see her face since she was in front of me. "Maybe Wisp was just jealous because you're better looking than her."
I allowed myself to laugh, though the reality of the situation didn't allow me to enjoy it much. "I don't think I've ever been called pretty before."
"Handsome, then."
"Coming from a woman who doesn't like men, I'm not sure how well to take that," I said, allowing a bit of humor into my voice.
"Just because I don't like horses, doesn't mean I can't tell a mule from a charger," Tria answered without missing a beat. I found Tria's sharp wit refreshing. Possibly, I thought, because she was using it to flatter me, but I felt more than part of my feeling of good will towards the woman was due wholly to her outstanding nature. It was rare to meet someone so fully possessed of themself.
I noticed that we were approaching a door, and Tria was slowing down, "Froast will be very excited to see your cloak. He's been trying for a breakthrough in the process for ages. He's the only one of us who's actually allowed to know the process for creating the Lucidil cloaks to begin with. My primary role is simply to examine the thread consistency and properties of the fabrics he produces. I have never seen him produce anything like what you're wearing, even in his most amazing samples. He was a little angry when he found out there was another research project down south, but the news that you'd brought a sample for him to study quickly quelled that. He is, to say the least, obsessed with his work. "
I nodded, deciding that since I knew nothing, it would be best not to say anything at all. I felt that would be a stance I'd be taking often in t
he near future. Tria knocked once on the door and then waited. She didn't have to wait long. A bolt slid back and the door opened, exposing a female Knight of Ethan standing guard at the entry way. She looked first to Tria, nodded her greeting, and then looked to me. Her face blanched when her eyes met mine, and mine must have gone several shades lighter as well. The Knight standing in the door was Wisp.
Wisp said nothing as she permitted us entrance into the room, and I did what I could to make myself appear calm and relaxed. In reality, though, between running into Wisp again and the knowledge that I was about to be pressed for answers I didn't have regarding my cloak, my nerves were so taunt I could have played them like a harp. I kept Wisp at the corner of my line of sight as we moved into a room full of equipment I didn't recognize. There was a door at the opposite end of the room from where we'd entered, to which Tria was walking. I followed her. For her part, Wisp stayed distant from me, never coming within physical range, which suited me well enough. I wasn't exactly afraid of her, but I refused to be less than cautious in her presence. I followed Tria through the room to the door at the back. Once there, she knocked and called, "Master Froast, the sample is here. I believe you will be most pleased."
The door swung open before Tria had even finished her words, and a tall, chubby man came rushing out. His hair was of middling length, blond but streaked with gray and unkempt. He had eyes of a deep brown that almost appeared black, set high above a graying mustache and a large grin was on his face that showed off a set of teeth in terrible disrepair. His brown robe, an expensively cut piece of fabric, was dirty and covered in splotches of what looked like dried blood.
"By all that is good in the world!" He exclaimed as his eyes locked on my cloak, and he pulled the door of the room he'd just come from firmly shut behind him. I noted that a strong animal smell wafted from there in. His hands, cleaner than his clothing thankfully, were on the material of my cloak in an instant and his nose, a long hooked affair that might have appeared strange on face less hawkish than his own, was actually pressed against the fabric as he examined it closely. "But how did they..." He began, and then, "Oh, now that is...." He seemed to have entirely forgotten there were others in the room.
