Chainers Torment mgc-2

by Scott McGough

  Roup struggled feebly and clawed at his throat with his free hand.

  "Big brother," Chainer hissed in his ear, "I am going to show you the package now. I want us to be completely clear on one point, however-it is mine to deliver. Mine. I found it. I fought for it, and I will kill anyone who tries to keep me from giving it to the First with my own hands."

  Roup gagged and choked, and the sleeve of his robe began to tear.

  "Are we clear, big brother?"

  Roup's head jerked up and down. He banged his chin on the table, spilling both the goblet and the decanter. Chainer touched the link that was keeping the collar tight.

  "Break," he whispered, and it shimmered away into nothing. He allowed Roup enough slack to gasp and cough, but he kept the chain firmly around the tavern keeper's neck. Roup was the only one who could use the grapevine from this location, so Chainer needed him alive and conscious.

  "With your free hand," Chainer said, "open the package. But don't touch what's inside. Clear?"

  Roup sucked in a few more wheezing gulps of air and shot Chainer a murderous look over his shoulder. Chainer could see the dire threats of retribution forming in Roup's mind, but the chatty old bore was smart enough not to challenge Chainer's advantage. Chainer suspected that Roup had often been held hostage and was probably used to it by now. Besides, his natural greed and curiosity were piqued. Slowly, carefully, he undid the drawstring.

  For several long minutes there was no sound other than Roup's ragged breathing as he stared at Chainer's sphere. Chainer himself waited patiently, resting just enough weight on Roup's back to keep him still and just enough tension on his throat to keep him obedient.

  Roup's voice was a hoarse, painful whisper. "You win, little brother. What do you need?"

  "Get on the grapevine," Chainer said immediately. "Contact the proving grounds and inform Skellum that his pupil Chainer is waiting for him here. Tell him it's an emergency. Tell him to come now."

  Chainer released Roup's throat and spun lightly around the table. As he passed Roup's pinned sleeve, Chainer retrieved his dagger.

  "And tell him to come heavy."

  *****

  Less than an hour later, Chainer walked out of Roup's tavern. Skellum said he would meet Chainer outside, and that Chainer was to distract the Order's bully boys until he arrived.

  The sun had recently set, and the night was dark, cold, and clear. Oil-burning street lamps flickered. His enemies were waiting for him in the street.

  The two Order soldiers stood rigid and humorless, watching Roup's doorway. The small bird-thing squatted beside the aven officer, and it croaked unpleasantly as Chainer came out. There was no sign of the mantis or its beast. There was likewise no sign of Skellum.

  "That's far enough," the officer called. "This is fair warning, boy.

  If you run again, we will be forced to injure you. If you retreat back into that den of filth, we will burn it down."

  Chainer glared at him, but did not speak. "Distract them," Skellum had said, but the mere sight of these fake do-gooders in their gleaming white robes galled Chainer like an abscess. He had fought many Order soldiers, both on the streets and in the Cabal's fighting pits, and he was always eager to take on another. He wondered if Skellum would consider crippling stab wounds enough of a distraction.

  "I am Major Teroh," the aven said. "In the name of the Order, I hereby claim you and that satchel at your waist. If you come with us now, you will not be harmed. You'll spend a night as a guest on a warm, safe bedroll. You might even get a hot meal out of it.

  "We don't want to hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact. But whatever it is you're carrying," he paused, searching for the right words, "belongs with us. It's simply too dangerous for the likes of you."

  Chainer made no effort to hide his disgust. "You don't even know what you're talking about, do you?"

  "Not as such," Teroh bristled at Chainer's scorn. "But if I saw a book of spells written in a foreign language, I still wouldn't let a child read from it."

  "Go find a child with a book, then," Chainer said. "I'm on Cabal business. I don't need an Order librarian wasting my time."

  Major Teroh scowled. "I won't ask you again."

  "Suits me. Then I won't have to ignore you again."

  "Trooper Baankis," the major said loudly, and the foot soldier snapped to an even more rigid state of attention.

  "Yes, Major!"

  "Relieve this willful young man of his burden. If he resists… subdue him. No permanent damage."

  "Yes, sir!" Baankis started forward, and Chainer drew his knuckle dagger. He held it expertly out in front of him in his left hand. His right hand was balled into a fist at his side, and he stood lightly on his toes with his weight evenly balanced.

  "At ease, trooper." Baankis halted. The major scowled again, and shook his head in frustration. He called out to Chainer, "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?" When Chainer didn't reply, Teroh shook his head. "Baankis, stand down."

  "Sir!"

  Teroh jerked the bird-thing's leash, and it spread its wings and shook itself. The major turned to Baankis and said, "Stand by to collect one bad- mannered boy and one mysterious satchel."

  "Yes, sir!"

  Major Teroh dropped the bird's leash and pointed at Chainer. "Subdue," he said, and the bird took flight.

  Chainer watched it bearing down on him, its wingspan as wide as he was tall. It swerved so as to avoid the dagger clutched tight in his left hand. Chainer knew that with its speed and its long neck it could disarm him, knock him over, or pin him down before his blade could even touch it. Grimly, he waited.

  When the bird was ten feet away, Chainer lashed out with his right hand. The length of chain he had been concealing snapped out, screaming directly toward the oncoming bird. Chainer's aim was excellent. The sharpened weight at the end of the chain smashed clean through the bird's skull, killing it instantly. Chainer caught the still-twitching corpse as it crashed into his chest and let it drop heavily to the ground.

  "Callda!" Major Teroh shouted.

  Chainer held onto the chain, now threaded through the ruined skull of the bird, and sneered at Teroh. "Callda, was it? Friend of yours, Major, or a distant cousin? Don't worry, it didn't die in vain." Chainer scornfully nudged the carcass. "I'll light a candle for it when I get home." He put his knuckle dagger back into the quick-release sheath on his shoulder.

  "Baankis," Teroh growled and drew his sword. "Advance. If this murderous little worm survives, he is going to spend the next three years in a rehabilitation work camp."

  Baankis was wide-eyed but resolute. "Yes, sir." Chainer was pleased to hear that his replies were no longer so crisp and regimental.

  "Hold on, Major," Chainer said. "If you liked that, you're going to love this." Without waiting, Chainer dropped to his knees by Callda's body, clenched the end of his chain tighter, and reached out to the corpse with his mind as Master Skellum had taught him.

  The bird's heart had only recently stopped beating. Robbed of any vital impetus, its blood gave in to gravity and began to pool in its torso. Its muscles drained and deflated, its body temperature dropped, and its joints started to stiffen. Chainer took hold of the energy being released by the bird's transition from life to death and channeled it up and into his chain.

  "The Cabal is here," he whispered, and then he cried out as a jolting rush of energy leaped up the chain and into his own body. He felt his consciousness expand, he felt his arms and legs grow stronger and more responsive, he felt his thoughts clarify. He stood and jerked the chain free from Callda's skull. He began to twirl it around his head, letting out more and more of it as it spun. Chainer was ferocious in his joy. This was going better than he could have imagined. Perhaps he wouldn't need Skellum's help after all.

  "Keep your distance, Bunkus," he said to the foot soldier, and he could hear the confidence in his voice as it echoed off the street's paving stones. Charged by the death of Callda, Chainer was flush with the arcane darknes
s that was the source of the Cabal's power. He felt immovable, invincible. With the barest thought, he magically added another six feet to his chain and created another sharpened weight for the end in his hand. Soon he had two lethal missiles dancing a complicated minuet around every inch of his body. The chain automatically increased or decreased in length as it flew, according to its master's will. Young as he was, Chainer was an expert with the long chain, and he even dared to mock Teroh from the safety of its whirling radius.

  "Your move, Major," he called. "There's a hot meal and a safe bed waiting for me at the Cabal, too. If you let me pass, maybe we'll both sleep well tonight."

  Teroh's eyes were wild, and his voice was tight in his throat. With a visible effort of will, he swallowed his fury and barked, "Reseda!"

  Chainer heard a buzz and saw a blur. A sudden impact on his chest knocked him backward so hard that Roup's door rattled on its hinges. His chain snarled and tangled around him clumsily, and one of the weighted ends gashed painfully into his shin. Dazed, he looked up.

  The mantis-man stood over him, chittering in its incomprehensible insect language. It jammed one of its pointed forelimbs into the solid stone beside Chainer's head and hissed at him. There was another buzz, another blur, and the mantis disappeared back into the alley behind Major Teroh.

  "Reseda hates this city," Teroh said, "but he hates that thing in your satchel even more."

  Chainer coughed and tasted blood. He had bitten his tongue and split his lip. His ears were still ringing, and his vision was tilted sideways. At least his ribs weren't broken, he thought. He could still breathe, albeit painfully.

  "Now then, Cabalist," Teroh continued, spitting the last word out like poison. "You will surrender. Trooper Baankis and I are going to bind your hands. If you behave, we will even bind your wounds. Then you will accompany us back to our citadel where you will offer apologies and make restitution for Callda. And then, you will be rehabilitated."

  Chainer grunted. "Die first. And haunt you forever."

  "I don't think so." Teroh waved his hand in front of him, whispering, and the razor edges of both his and Baankis's swords began to glow brightly. "Baankis?"

  "Sir!" Trooper Baankis had regained his gusto.

  "Forward." The two soldiers advanced in step with their swords drawn and radiant. Chainer struggled to get to his feet but slumped back against the door of the tavern.

  "My goodness," came a silky, sinuous voice. "Now this is simply unacceptable. Chainer, what have you been up to?"

  The speaker stepped out from around the corner of the building into the light. He was a small, neat man, elegant in his manner and graceful in his movements. He was dressed in form-fitting snakeskin died midnight black, and he wore a waterproof cape with a bright red collar and black fur lining. His head was completely concealed by a bell-shaped hat made of grayish paper stretched tight between stiff wire ribs. The hat hung loosely from a hook that sprouted up from a wire rig attached to his shoulders. It had gaps between every second panel that allowed him to see, but each gap was only a few inches wide.

  One of the gaps was now positioned directly in front of his face. He had clear blue eyes, an elegant beard, and a neat mustache. Beside him stood a huge black dog whose head was as big as a pony's. The dog's shoulder came up to the man's elbow, and she clearly outweighed him. Her eyes glowed dusky red in the shadow of her brow.

  "My name is Skellum, and I wear a silly hat." The newcomer spoke brightly, as if introducing himself to a dinner party full of children. "Is there a problem, officer?"

  CHAPTER 2

  "Azza, old girl," Skellum said, and the massive dog beside him pricked up her ears. "Check on young Chainer, will you?" Despite his pain, Chainer was thrilled. Only the Cabal elite had access to the hellhounds, and Chainer had never seen one so close. Major Teroh regarded the new arrivals suspiciously. Chainer watched his eyes dart from Skellum to the dog to the doorway of Roup's tavern. Chainer knew all of the Order's toy soldiers prided themselves on their ability to control every situation they encountered. Teroh was clearly weighing the odds as Azza came closer.

  "Stop right there," Teroh said. Azza paused, then growled at Teroh so deeply that Chainer felt it in his spine twenty feet away. "This boy-" Teroh began.

  "Chainer," Skellum corrected him gently. "He is called Chainer." "This boy," Teroh repeated, "is transporting contraband. When we tried to examine it, he lashed out at Trooper Baankis and ran. When we caught up to him, he killed one of my best crusat birds. He is coming with us."

  "Oh dear," Skellum said. "That is a problem. Are you sure we can't come to some sort of arrangement?" He smiled.

  "We don't make deals with the likes of you," Teroh said.

  "Everyone does business with the Cabal," Skellum said cheerfully. "This is our city, after all. It's merely a question of what you want and what you're willing to give."

  Teroh's voice rose. "If that dog takes one more step toward that boy, I'll give it the flat of my blade. Call off your dog, and leave us to our duty."

  "Well now, that raises another problem. I can't 'call her off.' Azza here has been in the Cabal longer than I have, so technically she outranks me." As Skellum prattled on, Chainer stood and gathered up his tangled chain as inconspicuously as he could. Where Roup talked too much because he was lonely and pathetic, Skellum talked too much to defuse the situation and give Chainer time to recover.

  "I could suggest to her that she back off, but if she doesn't want to… Hang on. Chainer? Are you bleeding?"

  "Yes, Mentor." Then he hissed to Azza, who was closest to him, "There's a big bug in that alley. And something else, I-"

  "She knows," Skellum called. "Officer… Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

  "I am Major Teroh, and this conversation is over."

  Skellum stroked his well-trimmed beard. "Major, officer, officer, major. What's the difference?" He looked at Chainer. "A major is an officer, isn't it?"

  "This major is an ass," spat Chainer.

  Teroh stiffened, and Skellum sighed.

  "Anyway. Major Teroh. Was it you who damaged my pupil?"

  Teroh sneered. "I had him damaged, yes. Because he resisted, just like you're resisting now. And if you don't want to be damaged, I suggest…" Teroh's voice trailed off.

  As soon as the word "yes" passed Teroh's lips, Skellum changed. His calm demeanor grew darker, and his voice hardened. The happy gleam in his eyes became a cold, penetrating glare. Little knots of muscle formed in his cheeks, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

  "The Cabal is here, Major, and everywhere. Chainer is Cabal, and more, he is under my protection. Whatever Chainer has done to you, you in turn owe us for his injury. Now we have to come to an arrangement. No one walks away from a Cabal debt. No one."

  "True gods," Teroh snapped in exasperation. "Do any of you bog-wallowers live in this world? We are the Order. We are the law. And we have you outnumbered. Reseda!"

  Chainer was ready for the blur this time. As the mantis sprang out of the alley toward Skellum, Chainer tried simultaneously to shout a warning and draw back his chain. He needn't have bothered.

  Fast as Reseda was, Azza was even faster, and her center of gravity was far lower. Reseda's thorax crashed into Azza's driving shoulder, and even Chainer winced as he heard the insect's exoskeleton crack. Six hundred pounds of magically bred and enhanced canine reared up and slammed her powerful head into Reseda's shoulder and throat. The crippled mantis spun painfully onto the paving stones, and the hellhound clamped onto him, gripping Reseda's shoulder joint and half of his face with her massive jaws. Azza bit down to immobilize the mantis, but she did not injure Reseda further. She let out a single, explosive bark, and Reseda screamed in his eerie, alien tongue. Teroh and Baankis were wide-eyed and speechless.

  "Now, Major," Skellum said coldly, "about that arrangement."

  Teroh recovered first. He pointed his still-glowing sword and said, "Turn my ally loose, Skellum. Your dog is impressive, but you've just overplayed you
r hand."

  "Have I?" He walked over to Azza and Reseda, who was hissing and chittering out a steady stream of mantis talk. Chainer didn't understand a word of it, but he guessed it was either a prayer or a curse.

  "It seems to me," Skellum continued, "that we have the advantage. Granted, I'm not a military man like yourself, but still…" Casually, he reached up and gave the brim of his hat a push. The yoke-and- hook rig he wore was designed to let the hat spin freely, and it did, revealing Skellum's face in brief flashes as the gaps went round and round.

  A secret, electric thrill ran through Chainer as he watched Teroh's face. The major had no idea what Master Skellum was doing-or how dangerous it was.

  "You're through, Major," Chainer called out. "And you don't even know it."

  Azza growled at Chainer, and the next flashes of Skellum's face showed an angry glare directed at his pupil. He gave his hat another spin and refocused on the matter at hand. Baankis looked at Chainer in confusion. Teroh ignored them all. Instead, he concentrated on the words pouring out of Reseda and nodded to himself. Reseda had been repeating the same syllable over and over, his clicking voice growing louder and more shrill with each repetition. "What's he saying?" Skellum asked. Teroh actually smiled, cruelly. "He's saying 'kill.'" "Oh, it's not that bad." Skellum's voice was becoming distant, almost sleepy, and the strobe flashes of his face revealed eyes rolled back and jaw hanging slack. "A few herbs, some bed rest, maybe some time in the hot springs… "