“If that’s true,” Ermolt said, carefully choosing his words, “then why are you still here?”
Ibeyar laughed and crossed the room, leaning in close to Ermolt. “No wonder you’ve survived for so long.” He rapped his knuckles—the unbroken ones that had ‘hit’ the pillar—against the side of Ermolt’s head. “This thick skull keeps out the obvious as easily as blades and arrows, hm?”
Ermolt snapped his teeth at the wizard’s hand and Ibeyar pulled back quickly. Something rose to Ibeyar’s lips, but he suppressed the would-be curse and shook his head.
“I’ve been waiting for you three, barbarian. My entire plan has been put on hold because I didn’t want you heathens barging in and interrupting everything. You’re so very, very good at that.” He shook his head. “Now that I know where you are, and now that I know you can’t stop me, I’ll take what I deserve.”
“Athala can still stop you,” Elise said in a quiet voice. “If she hasn’t already beaten you there.”
“If she beat me there, then I’ll just tell her where you two are.” Ibeyar smirked at the both of them. “Do you think she wouldn’t trade my victory for your lives?” His glare bore down on Ermolt. “Do you think she hates me enough to sacrifice you to spite me? I know my minions were a little rough with her, but she loves you both more. Or,” he said with a grin, “perhaps she isn’t devoted enough to your misguided cause? She’d gladly ignore Ydia’s orders if she had the chance, hm?”
Ermolt looked away, not wanting to give the wizard the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes.
“That’s what I thought.” Ibeyar turned and started walking towards the door.
“Wait! What are you going to do with us, then?” Elise asked. She was trying to sound defiant, but there was a clear tone of defeat in her voice.
“Well, I need you alive if only so long as there’s a chance I can use you to negotiate with your friend for the dragon.” Ibeyar stopped in the doorway and turned to look over his shoulder. “Beyond that, I’d really love to make you watch your wizard die before I killed the both of you. But, sadly, you are too much of a threat to be allowed to survive the night.” He looked to the Guards behind them. “If I’m not back before sunrise, kill them both.”
“Coward!” Ermolt bellowed, lunging forward. He ignored the strain on his shoulder and put everything he had into struggling. There was a loud crack as he hit the reach of the ropes binding him to the old beam. The whole building groaned as he set his feet and shoved forward. It was surprising that the beam held against the blow, but dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. “Fight me! If you would kill me, show enough courage to do so yourself!”
“Hold him!” Ibeyar snapped.
The Guards surged forward and tackled Ermolt, pushing him back against the beam and holding him in place. He snarled at them, but none flinched away.
“There are only two ways I ever want to see him again,” Ibeyar shouted across the tannery. “Either he’s still tied to that beam, or he’s dead on the floor in front of it.” He pointed at a few choice Guards, singling them out. “If I see him in any other condition, you had better pray he kills you on his way out. What I do will be much more unpleasant.”
The Guards nodded. Ermolt could see them blanching from the threat. “You all follow a coward!” Ermolt bellowed at those who held him. He struggled against them, and the beam creaked and groaned as he thrashed. His shoulder was bleeding freely again, but the pain was far away. “He is no prophet! Let me fight him and I’ll show you how little power he truly wields!”
Ibeyar laughed.
It was a deep, dark chuckle that dried up Ermolt’s desire to break free.
“You’re right, Ermolt. I am no mere ‘prophet.’ It’s a shame you won’t live long enough to see what I am. What I will become.”
Chapter Thirty-One
With the Conscripts and Ibeyar gone, Elise expected retaliation. Abuse. She braced herself for the spitting and name calling and pinching and punching.
The Guards had won. And it was a hard fought battle. There should have been gloating and teasing, threats and uncomfortable questions.
But none came.
Within moments of Ibeyar and the Conscripts leaving, the mood of the room had changed dramatically as if a spell had ended. The tension was gone, and the Guards who had been terrified moments before now milled around almost aimlessly.
No one came to pick on the two prisoners. In fact, they actively avoided looking at the both of them, as if embarrassed.
Elise tried to inspect Ermolt’s shoulder, but other than a lot of blood that had been spilled during his struggle, he seemed fine. The wound was clotting over and would likely leave yet another scar for him to boast about.
If they lived long enough for it to scar.
Elise leaned her head back against the wooden post they were tied to. She was tired. All of the fighting had worn her out, and now that the situation was hopeless enough for her adrenaline to start to fade, she was crashing. Hard.
She yawned, long and low.
Ermolt did the same.
“So, uh,” one of the Guard finally said nearby, snapping Elise’s attention his way, “do we wait until we hear from him? He’ll... he’ll be back soon, right?”
“But he was going straight to the Temple,” another Guard said, a whine to her voice. “I’ve been following the Prophet since he came to Jirda. I don’t want to be left out of the big celebration after he deals with Numara.”
“He gave specific orders,” an older Guard said. He glared at the two younger ones as if he could set them aflame with just his eyes. “We’re staying here to guard these two until sunrise. Anything else is disobedience.”
“Maybe we can wait until the group that was sent after the wizard comes back?” another said. “Surely some of us can go after that. I’ve been awake since before fourth bell, so I’m not sure I’m going to make it to sunrise.”
“If you’re not staying, I’m not staying,” the second Guard said, the whine more clear. She shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, if that’s alright with everyone.”
Elise tried to tune out their discussion when it started to devolve into bickering on who was going to stay or go, and why.
She knew she should have been paying attention.
If she chipped in to the discussion, riled them up a bit, she could keep them fighting. Sowing discord into the group could give them a chance—no matter how small—of escaping.
But that would take time.
And they didn’t have time.
Ibeyar was charging directly towards his objective, and they needed to get moving immediately to have a chance to stop him.
Especially since they still needed to find and rescue Athala.
So even if Elise could get the Guards to break into a physical fight, it wouldn’t be fast enough.
She was left with only one direction to turn.
And it left a bitter taste in her mouth to think of it.
Elise bowed her head and prayed to Ydia.
Meodryt had made it painfully clear to her that they were expendable, but she tried to tell herself that it was to motivate her. The dragon had just been trying to push them to do their best, right?
Prayer was all they had left now, though.
If Ydia couldn’t free them, Ibeyar would win.
Perhaps now, with their backs against the wall and Ibeyar closing in on Numara, Ydia would take pity and help them.
So she prayed.
Elise poured her heart out to her God.
She begged for aid.
For them to be freed.
For Athala to be safe.
For Ibeyar to be stalled.
She begged for a sign that she had been heard.
A sign that help was on the way.
Anything.
She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she left them to run freely down her cheeks. Not like there was anything she could do about them anyway.
“Please,” she whispere
d, finally speaking her prayer aloud, “please help us.”
She didn’t think she was asking for much. What she wanted, really, was just a little hope. A sense of love, of attention, of care. She didn’t want a flash of light and everything to be put right. There was no desire to have Meodryt descend from the sky to smite her foes. She just wanted to be heard.
Ydia had ignored her time and again, and so many of her prayers had gone unanswered. Anything would have been better than that. A warm feeling in her heart would have satisfied her that Ydia was with her, and that things would turn out alright in the end.
But there was nothing.
Her tears of desperation turned to anger.
Of course.
Elise opened her eyes and bared her teeth.
Of course they were on their own. They were always on their own. There was no answer when her head was on the executioner’s block. Of course there would be no answer now.
One of the Guards clapped his hands loudly, quieting the argument that happened across the room. Elise looked immediately his way. “Seriously. It doesn’t matter what all of you intend, and what you deserve. If Ibeyar comes back and we’re not here, some lost sleep or a missed party is going to be the least of your concerns.”
“Not necessarily,” came a quiet voice. “He said there was another way this could go.”
Elise inspected the woman who spoke. She was of a larger frame, much like Elise, with the dark skin of a Lublis noble. Her hand was resting firmly on the pommel of her sword.
“What, killing them?” the other Guard asked. “I know he said he’d prefer that to seeing them escape, but isn’t that a little extreme?”
“They’ve defied the Prophet,” the woman said in that same tiny tone. “What else can they expect but death?”
Elise looked to Ermolt. He wasn’t paying attention to them. Instead, he was trying to escape. The loops around his wrists were still in place, but the complicated mess of rope that was around his body was starting to break apart.
He stilled quickly, and Elise noticed the Guards approaching.
“It seemed a lot more personal with the barbarian,” a Guard said. “He wanted to make him watch the wizard die.”
“Did you see him in the fight though? The last thing I want to is to tempt fate. If we’re dealing with them now, we start with him.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done to him,” Ermolt said in a deep, growling voice. He leaned forward towards the Guards, and the beam creaked under the pressure. “Killing me denies your Prophet the revenge he craves.” A cruel twist curled Ermolt’s lips and he tilted his head back, exposing his throat. “Go ahead. Kill me. Let him fail to extract his revenge like he’s failed at so much else.”
The bluff seemed to work for a moment, but the quiet woman stepped forward and slashed the remaining ropes that lashed Ermolt to the beam.
He overbalanced and almost fell on his face, but Guards on either side of him grabbed his arms and set about dragging him forward. Ermolt struggled, but another Guard kicked his knees out from under him.
Elise struggled against her bonds.
“If the Prophet asks,” the woman said in her small voice, “we’ll tell him you got loose. Even if he’s angered by your death, he’ll agree this was better than the alternative.” She drew her sword.
“Perhaps I should rough a few of you up first, just to sell the story. I’m more than happy to oblige!” Ermolt grinned up at her before jamming his shoulder into the Guard on his left.
The blow hit the man across the chin and he stumbled away, but two more rushed up to grab Ermolt and hold him down. Another pair of Guards ran up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to stay on his knees.
Ermolt snarled and thrashed against their grip, but it seemed like they held tighter.
He snapped his teeth at one who happened to lean too close and he almost caught a mouthful of ear.
The woman yelped and fell away. Ermolt began to rise with a roar of challenge, even with the weight of four men on his shoulders. But two more joined in, adding enough weight to return him to his knees.
“Tip his head back,” the quiet-toned woman said, and the others rushed to comply.
A Guard grabbed a handful of Ermolt’s long hair and yanked hard, exposing his throat once more. Ermolt fought against them like one of Dasis’ beasts.
“Cease your struggles,” the woman said, bare steel still in hand. “I harbor no ill feelings towards you, barbarian. This is nothing more than business.” Ermolt’s struggling stilled as the woman laid her sword across his throat. “If you submit, this will be over quickly. Struggle, and I may miss. I’d hate to see you suffer for no reason.”
“No!” Elise shouted and she bucked hard against her bindings. The beam splintered and cracked. Elise gritted her teeth and kept pulling, even though her arms were on fire.
Two Guards grabbed her and shoved her back. She struggled against them, but she was outmatched with her arms still lashed together.
She looked up, and noticed everyone had turned to face her. This was supposed to have been her moment, where she saved the day. Where Ydia gave her strength and where everything went right. Evil was supposed to be vanquished in a burst of light.
They had all expected it.
And yet Ydia still didn’t come.
“Don’t worry, Elise,” Ermolt said in a quiet tone. “You’ll get your chance.”
Elise stilled and watched him, confusion plastered to her face. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the right and grinned.
The Guard with her sword out turned back to Ermolt before Elise could figure out what his signal meant. She swung her sword in the air away from him twice, as if testing the weight of the blade. When she was sure of her strike, she stepped forward once more and promptly fell over.
There was a moment of perfect surprise as everyone stared at the stunned Guard.
A bolt of fire lanced out of the darkness behind one of the derelict vats and caught one of the Guards holding Elise full in the face. His hair was instantly alight, and his clothes quickly followed. He screamed and fell to the ground, rolling to try to put out the flames.
Athala stepped from the shadows, her lips already forming another spell.
Chapter Thirty-Two
An instant relief washed over Ermolt.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of death, and it wasn’t like he had feared the swift strike of that blade. All things die. Eventually he would too.
Instead, his relief came from seeing Athala, alive and well. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the wizard, in situations where firepower needed to be thrown around, but also just in general. They had spent so much time together in the past few months that the recent separation had been stressful.
But now she was here.
And now the Guards would pay.
Ermolt pulled hard on the loosened bonds that held his wrists together. As soon as the knot around his wrist began to unravel, he let loose a roar of fury.
The Guards holding him down were startled by his cry, as their attention had been completely on the dangerous new wizard. Ermolt pushed them away with the momentum of his escape.
He grabbed the wrists of the Guard holding his hair and flipped them over his head to break their grip. They slammed into the floor with a groan and Ermolt snarled at them, ripping his head away.
Ermolt rose to his feet, feeling like a giant birthed from his near death. Another louder bellow of challenge erupted from his throat and he felt a chill across his person as the shout filled the entire building. It rang against the walls and caused those closest to him to cover their ears.
He bit back the snow. Refused to let it fall. A blind rage would impede his ability to get them out without killing everyone.
Somewhere Athala was casting spells. Guards fell to the ground with shocked expressions, while others burst into flames without warning.
There was a level of panic in the Guards that Ermolt had never seen before in prof
essional combatants. Things had fallen apart so fast and without warning that they had no idea how to respond.
Ermolt strode across the room. Very few Guards even so much as looked his way. Instead they panicked and cowered. They ran.
Their fear did more to cool Ermolt’s rage than logic. There was no fun in killing prey who fled like a preoke. This was no meal for him to fill his belly with.
Ermolt made it to Elise with very little issue. It was obvious she had been struggling against her bonds, as her wrists were raw and the ropes had frayed slightly. With a strong tug he broke them from the beam, freeing the Conscript. He helped her to her feet, and for a brief moment they shared a smile.
There would be time to share joy over their escape later, however. Athala’s spells were coming slower and slower, and the Guards that remained had started to recover their senses.
Ermolt grabbed the nearest Guard bodily, one hand grasping his shoulder and the other wrapped into his belt. The Guard had a moment to contemplate this grapple before Ermolt lifted the man easily over his head. Before the man could recover enough to use his sword against Ermolt’s extended arms, Ermolt hurled him into a clump of Guards that were trying to form ranks. They managed to keep their weapons from impaling him, but the ones who weren’t knocked over by the impact were scattered into the tanning supplies.
Many of the Guards had fled—more than Ermolt was expecting. Those who weren’t on fire or trying to extricate themselves from their friend numbered only around half a dozen. It was a large departure from the nearly three dozen that had originally stayed behind.
Ermolt turned to Elise. “I’ll handle these. Go protect her.”
The Conscript nodded firmly. She rushed off to assist Athala, who was drawing the attention of single Guards, where Ermolt drew a group all at once. It was likely she would be overrun without help.
Athala also looked exhausted.
A ball of worry wound its way through Ermolt’s belly, making him hesitate. He hoped Athala hadn’t overworked herself coming to their rescue. But knowing the wizard, that was exactly what happened.
Destiny (Heroes by Necessity Book 3) Page 21
