‘Hurry!’ Lennox called to her, then his eyes glanced up at the mouth of the cave.
He skidded to a halt, his boots slipping on the loose scree as above him, Cain was dragged out of the cave by another group of rebels.
‘We’re surrounded,’ yelled Libby, dropping the basket of mushrooms and pulling a long knife from her boot.
Lennox turned to see the rebel warriors stride from the forest, crossbows levelled. He and Libby stood back to back as the warriors crossed the river.
‘Shit, Lennox,’ Libby said. ‘What’ll we do?
The warriors that had come out of the cave descended the slope, completing the encirclement of Lennox and Libby. Cain had been trussed up in ropes, and he lay at the feet of the rebels, squirming like a fish in a net.
Lennox narrowed his eyes, the small, blunt knife in his right hand seeming pathetic against the array of weapons being pointed at them by the rebels.
‘We die like soldiers,’ he said to Libby.
‘We don’t want to kill you,’ cried a voice from the rebels, and a man stepped forward from the ring enclosing them. ‘Your two companions are unharmed. Surrender.’
‘We’ll not be your hostages,’ Lennox said. ‘If you want us, come and take us.’
The man frowned. ‘You do see the dozen crossbows pointed at you, aye? You do know we could kill you in a second.’
‘Then do it!’ Libby cried. ‘And we’ll show you how true soldiers die. Pyre is watching, he will know who his faithful servants are if we die today.’
The rebels laughed, and the lead man shook his head.
‘You two have it bad, I see,’ he said. He glanced at an enormous woman, who was carrying a heavy club. ‘Try not to permanently maim them.’
The woman grinned and stepped forwards. Lennox brandished his knife, and shoved Libby back to ensure he would be the one to face the rebel. The woman approached, lifting her club, and Lennox sprang forwards. His right arm darted out and he slashed the woman across her leg with the blade of the small knife.
‘That’s fucking hurt, ya wee bastard,’ the woman said, frowning at him. She swung her club and struck him with a mighty blow, snapping the bones of his ribcage like dry twigs. He collapsed to the ground in agony, dropping the knife and clutching his chest.
‘Getting slow,’ said the Kellach man, glancing at the bleeding wound on the woman’s thigh. ‘Nobody usually gets close enough to do you any damage.’
‘Nah,’ she said. ‘He’s a nippy wee lad. Fast. I hope I didn’t break him.’
Libby rushed to Lennox’s side as he writhed on the ground. The pain was overwhelming, and he coughed up blood from his mouth.
‘You bastards!’ Libby cried, the long knife still in her hands.
‘Drop it,’ the man said. ‘It’s over. Don’t turn this into a bloodbath.’
Lennox’s eyes closed, the agony too much. He gasped, choking on his own blood, and oblivion took him.
Lennox remembered snatches of the journey from their camp across the mountains, carried in a stretcher along steep paths and through narrow ravines. His chest had been bandaged, and he was given water to drink, but his mind took almost nothing in, consumed as it was by the pain that filled him. Libby had been by his side, leaning over him and whispering words of encouragement, and Darine too, or maybe he had dreamt it. It had got dark, then light again before they seemed to stop for a long time.
‘Here he is,’ said a voice. ‘He’s still with us.’
‘Aye, just,’ replied another.
‘I told you I’d bring them back alive.’
‘Aye, you did. Get them into the caves, then. Make sure the other three are blindfolded.’
‘Aye, boss.’
Lennox’s stretcher was lifted, sending a jolt of scourging agony through his chest that buried his senses.
When he regained consciousness, he was lying on a straw mattress, his left ankle shackled to an iron hoop embedded into the cavern wall. He glanced around. An oil lamp was burning from a shelf, and its flickering light danced off the ceiling and walls of the small rock chamber. His chest was sore, but the pain was nothing like before.
His mouth was dry and parched, and he felt too weak to shout out, to see if anyone was around.
‘You’re awake,’ came a voice from the shadows.
Lennox squinted, and saw movement. A woman emerged into the lamplight, carrying a mug. She placed it to his lips and he gulped down the water within.
‘Careful, son,’ she said. ‘Not all at once. Och, yer a hardy lad. Half the folk here swore blind ye wouldnae make it.’
He tried to focus on the woman’s face, but his vision was blurry and she seemed far away, as if talking to him from outside the room. He recognised the feeling from training, and realised why he couldn’t sense much pain. They were drugging him with dullweed.
‘My friends?’ he gasped.
‘Aye? What about them?’
‘Are they alright?’
‘Aye. They’re fine. That Libby’s a right handful, but. A proper wee soldier-girl. The other two have been much more accommodating. Do ye want to see them?’
‘Aye.’
The woman gazed at him. ‘Maybe after ye’ve eaten something. Do ye think yer up to it?’
He nodded.
She went back into the shadows and retrieved a bowl.
‘This was my lunch,’ she said. ‘Can ye sit up?’
He lifted his head, then propped himself up on one elbow, panting, and she laid the bowl down onto the mattress next to him. It was a vegetable broth, not too far removed from the food the four soldiers had shared back at the camp. A spoon was placed in his hand and he wolfed down the soup, his hunger assuaged.
She laughed. ‘With an appetite like that, ye’ll be better in no time. Now,’ she went on, her face growing more serious, ‘I want ye to give up any hope ye might have about escaping. Yer deep underground, and the ways in and out are guarded and hidden. We’ve no wish to harm ye, or yer friends, but if ye cause trouble then we will. Got it?’
He nodded. The pain in his chest was starting to increase, while at the same time his vision was clearing. He grimaced.
‘Starting to feel it, are ye?’ she said. ‘Dullweed’s wearing off. Bad news is that yer not getting any more, so yer going to have to live with the pain. It’s kept ye knocked out for three days so yer body could begin healing itself, any more than that and ye’ll start craving it. And, some of the folk here are not too happy about it being given to a prisoner, not when we haven’t got much in the first place.’
He stared at her. Three days?
‘Stay here,’ she said, winking at him. ‘I’ll be back soon.’
She took the empty bowl and walked from the chamber, leaving Lennox alone. He sunk back down onto the mattress.
Three days.
Why hadn’t they just let him die? He had spent part of his training simulating what it was like to be captured and interrogated, and knew the rebel woman’s friendliness could be a cover to lull him into trusting her. He and the other trainees had been subjected to a cycle of beatings, interspersed with periods of kindness, to make them crack and give up the password they had been ordered to keep secret. Any who did were beaten almost to death and thrown into an airless, windowless cell. It had happened to Cain, and it had taken him thirds to recover from it.
He needed to be strong, and prepare himself. The rebels were ruthless extremists, and he had no doubt they would try every trick to break him.
He began to stretch his aching limbs, ignoring the growing pain in his chest. It was manageable, and he had carried far worse before. He tugged at the chain linking his left ankle to the wall, but it was secure. The shackle had a padlock, which he examined. He carried a couple of metal picks in his belt, but his clothes had been removed, and he was wearing a long, stained gown. The chain was long enough to reach the ground, and he swung his legs off the bed. Gripping the hoop attached to the wall, he pulled himself to his feet, his face twisting in pain. H
e stood, bearing it, then stretched again, his teeth clenched.
His eyes were drawn to the oil lamp, and its small flame. He felt out with his powers, and exhaled in joy as the fire responded, twisting and spiralling in little coils at his command. Maybe it was time to reveal what he could do, and put his abilities to use.
‘Ye weren’t joking,’ said a male voice. ‘Look at him. Up and about already.’
‘Told ye he was a tough one,’ the woman said as the two rebels walked into the chamber. Behind them lurked another pair, armed.
Lennox released his hold on the flame before they could notice and turned to face them, his right fist clenching.
‘It’s their training,’ the man said. ‘Say what ye like about the Army of Pyre, but they fucking train their soldiers well.’
They halted a few paces away from him. He ignored the pain in his chest and stood proud before them.
‘Ye said ye wanted to see yer friends,’ the woman said. ‘Are ye going to behave?’
Lennox said nothing.
‘We’re going to chain yer wrists together,’ she went on, ‘and yer ankles. Then we’ll take ye to join yer friends.’
They were lying to him, he was sure. He was in line for a beating, or questioning under torture, and they wanted him to acquiesce in his being bound.
‘Will ye co-operate?’ the man said.
Lennox smiled. ‘No.’
The woman smirked. ‘He’s going to be another Libby,’ she said, then gestured behind her. More warriors entered the chamber. Lennox had been wrong about the number, for a further six rebels approached him, two carrying chains and hammers.
‘Arms out!’ yelled one.
‘Not a chance,’ he said.
They rushed him, three from each side. He swung his fist, striking a man on the chin, but he barely flinched and within seconds Lennox had been bundled to the ground. He struggled and writhed, but they were strong, and he was still weak from his injury. One of the warriors knelt on his chest, and he gasped in pain.
‘Easy on him,’ said the woman.
His arms were pulled out straight, and he felt his wrists bound with shackles. His legs were next. Five warriors held him down as his ankles were brought together by the sixth, who fixed the chains and secured them. The warrior then rose, and released the chain that attached Lennox to the wall.
‘See?’ the woman said. ‘All that struggling for nothing.’
‘I can take anything you throw at me,’ Lennox cried.
The woman laughed and shook her head. ‘Carry him. Let’s go.’
Lennox was lifted by six pairs of arms, and hauled across the chamber. The woman led the way, through a long dark tunnel, lit by a solitary candle, then down a right-hand turn. She stopped at a sturdy wooden door. She opened it, then turned to Lennox.
‘Chain him next to the others.’
He was carried into another chamber, lit as before with a single oil lamp. On the opposite wall were his friends – Cain on the right, followed by Libby, and then Darine, chained by their ankles to iron hoops in the floor.
‘Lennox!’ cried Darine, her eyes wide.
He was taken to the end of the line, next to Darine and furthest from the door, and his ankle chain was fixed to a spare hoop. The woman looked over the prisoners.
‘Do you believe me now, Libby?’ she said. ‘Didn’t I tell you he was alive?’
Lennox gazed at his friends, and they stared back.
‘I’ll leave you to your reunion,’ the woman smirked, and she and the rebels left the chamber, closing the thick door behind them.
‘Pyre’s arsehole, Lennox,’ Cain said. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘Where have you been?’ said Libby.
‘In bed,’ he said. ‘Sleeping. They gave me dullweed.’
‘She was telling the truth,’ Darine said. ‘That Koreen woman.’
‘Koreen?’ Lennox said.
‘That’s her name,’ Darine said, ‘the woman who was in here just now. The one in charge.’
‘She’s lied about everything else, though,’ Libby said. ‘Just because Lennox is alive doesn’t mean we can trust them.’
‘How have you been treated?’ Lennox asked.
‘Fine,’ said Cain, sitting at the other end of the line of prisoners. ‘Food, water.’
‘Interrogation?’
Cain shook his head.
‘They’re playing us,’ Libby said. ‘Being all friendly, and acting like they don’t want to harm us. It’s all an act.’
‘I disagree,’ said Darine.
‘I thought you might,’ Libby said, glaring at the Domm woman. She turned back to Lennox. ‘Darine’s turned. Her heart’s with the rebels. We can’t trust her any more.’
Darine smiled and shook her head, but said nothing.
‘We have to stick together,’ Lennox said. ‘If they’re playing tricks on us, then we need to be ready.’
‘There’s no “if”, Lennox,’ Libby said.
‘Then what do they want?’ Lennox said. ‘They had every opportunity to torture me while I was alone, or question me when I was drugged, but they didn’t.’
Libby shrugged. ‘Just proves they’re amateurs.’
Darine laughed. ‘You’re contradicting yourself. They can’t be amateurs and playing us expertly at the same time. The truth is, you can’t bring yourself to imagine the possibility that the rebels might not be the savages you believe them to be, because it would bring down the web of lies that you mistake for reality.’
‘Shut up!’ Libby cried.
Lennox glanced at Darine. She was sitting next to him with her back to the wall, resting an arm on a raised knee. She caught his eye and smiled at him.
‘What lies?’ he said.
‘Where do I start?’ Darine replied, holding his gaze. ‘How about, “everything we’ve ever been told”, would that do?’
Libby shook her head. ‘I’ll pray for you, Darine. Pyre will welcome you back if you open your heart to him.’
Lennox ignored her. ‘What happened, Darine?’ he said. ‘What’s made you change?’
‘Been thinking, that’s all,’ she said.
The door opened and the woman walked in, alone. She closed it behind her and sat on a stool. She had a large jug in her arms, and a bag over her shoulder.
‘Now that I’ve had a chance to stuff some lunch down my throat,’ she said, ‘and you’re all together, I thought I’d come along for a wee chat.’
She placed the jug on the ground and swung the bag onto her lap. She threw it to Lennox.
‘Some fruit, olives and meat in there for each of you,’ she said. ‘Grab a handful and pass it on.’
Lennox opened the bag and removed a quarter of the food. He shoved the strip of cured pork into his mouth, and passed the bag to Darine. Their captor watched as the prisoners ate in silence. Lennox savoured every mouthful, and devoured it all in minutes.
‘Now,’ the woman said, ‘a wee treat.’
She picked up the jug and filled out five mugs.
‘Drink,’ she said, pushing the mugs forwards with her foot until the prisoners could reach them.
Lennox picked up his mug. ‘Why are we still alive?’
Koreen frowned. ‘A couple of reasons. We don’t usually have a policy of taking prisoners, as yer probably aware. But then again, neither do you. It’s a nasty wee squabble, and both sides have done their share of shite.’ She sipped her drink. ‘So when ye were sent down the valley, our first instinct was to attack, and to kill ye all, but we heard word from the surviving villagers that ye’d tried to stop the massacre, and that gave us pause.’
‘The villagers were helping the rebels?’ Libby cried. ‘Pyre’s sake, Logie was right.’
‘Logie, aye,’ Koreen said. ‘Yer squad leader. I’ll admit that we were also worried that he’d slaughter the rest of the folk in the village if we attacked yer camp, but then, a few days ago, a load of officers came into the village, and then they all withdrew, yer old squad inclu
ded. They abandoned ye.’
‘They think we’re dead,’ Darine said. ‘Logie thought that sending us down to the far camp would have the same effect as killing us.’
‘So we decided to bring ye in,’ Koreen said. ‘See what ye were like. See if there was any hope for ye. If ye tried to stop the slaughter, ye can’t be all bad.’
‘You’re mistaken,’ said Lennox, ‘if you think we’ll join you. We’re soldiers in the Army of Pyre, and now we’re prisoners. We’ll not help you in any way. Nothing you can do to us could be worse than what we’ve already gone through in training.’
Darine started to laugh, and Koreen joined in.
Lennox flushed.
‘Ye say that like yer proud of it,’ Koreen said. She sighed. ‘They really messed ye up. Prised from yer ma’s arms, and subjected to years of the cruellest training that anyone could devise, it’s fucking tragic.’ She shook her head at them. ‘Yer fighting for the folk yer supposed to be fighting against, ya wee numpties. Fighting to keep yer own people caged inside the giant prison of Liberton.’
‘You’re lying,’ said Libby. ‘The folk in Liberton are free, and can live as they please.’
‘Oh aye?’ said Koreen. ‘Can they leave?’
Libby frowned.
‘There was another reason that I’m here,’ Koreen said. ‘I came to return something that belongs to one of ye.’
Lennox noticed Darine’s eyes widen.
Koreen pulled something from her leather hauberk. It was a book, more battered and worn than when he had last seen it. Koreen held it up.
‘Lennox!’ cried Libby. ‘You told me you’d got rid of it. Why the fuck did you still have it?’
‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d thrown it out.’
‘I didn’t touch it,’ Libby said.
Koreen chuckled, and threw the book to Darine, who caught it.
‘You?’ Libby said. ‘This is why she’s lost her senses, Lennox. This is why she’s lost her faith. That damned book poisoned her mind.’
Darine shook her head, a sad smile on the edge of her lips.
Fragile Empire Page 25
