by Jason Kenyon
Tharanor would rarely talk about her now, but the pain of her loss still tortured him, and when things became quiet he had nothing to distract him from that knowledge. Killing Marr and stopping Valia had brought some measure of peace back to him, but neither act could come remotely close to fixing the hole Yuriath had left behind.
He winced as he shifted position, still aching and sore from his torture at the hands of Malthanes. The rest of the session had been only to fulfil Malthanes’s bloodlust, it seemed, as the Shield Commander had asked no further questions. He’d simply taken out his rage on Tharanor, to such an extent that he’d even looked shame-faced once he’d finished, and then proceeded to offer some mild healing. It had been a token gesture at best, and Tharanor had been left incapable of work in the quarry for days now.
From somewhere in the hold, Tharanor could hear shouting, and he began to take more note of it as it continued for ages, with barely a pause. Had some prisoners escaped? Was there a fight between captive Blade members? Or, perhaps, was Malthanes putting on some public demonstration of his twisted idea of justice? Tharanor couldn’t make out any specifics, and after an extended period he gave up concentrating and lay back against the cell wall.
At some point, though he wasn’t sure if he’d slept somewhere between, Tharanor heard a tapping at his cell door. He drowsily acknowledged the tapping and rose to his feet with care, grinding his teeth as he straightened and stretched one of his wounds. It then occurred to him that it was unusual for the guards not to have spoken or opened the cell by this point, and looked up.
Red eyes stared back at him, and he flinched as if struck.
Then it was as though his injuries had faded, as rage overtook him. He threw himself at the bars of the small opening in the cell door and tried to reach through and grab the person standing there.
Valia stepped back a pace and smiled coolly as she watched his vain attempts to reach her.
‘You,’ Tharanor said, once his rage had subsided enough for him to pause. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Things,’ Valia replied. ‘Good evening, Tharanor.’
‘Go and die,’ Tharanor said.
‘At least you’re honest,’ Valia said. She flashed him her most dazzling smile. ‘Funny, isn’t it – you saved Ferrina from Marr and I served him, yet you are imprisoned, while I am free out here.’
Tharanor kicked at the door. ‘Let me out of this cell, then, and we’ll see how things turn out.’
‘You make it such a tempting prospect,’ Valia said. ‘Still cross about Yuriath, I take it?’
This only drove Tharanor to greater fury, and he slammed the cell door repeatedly in a vain attempt to force it open. Valia’s forehead furrowed and she put up her hands.
‘Stop, stop,’ she said. ‘You’re not going to get out like that. You should be happy, anyway – it’s not often a person gets to have a chat with the murderer of their beloved.’
‘You vile coward,’ Tharanor said. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘You know exactly why,’ Valia replied. ‘I was there for the staff, I warned you in advance of the price of not complying, and you forced my hand. You have nobody to blame but yourself, and you can bet that the others all blame you for it too.’
‘Why don’t you open this door?’ Tharanor asked. ‘Afraid to fight me again? I suppose you would be, after you lost last time.’
Valia rubbed her face where he’d hit her during their duel atop Thorn’argen. ‘Yeah, I always did have a bit of a glass jaw.’ Her smile returned. ‘I guess I was lucky I didn’t get my throat cut.’
Tharanor let out an enraged roar and resumed his attempts to kick and barge open the door, while Valia just smirked and leaned back against the opposite wall. It didn’t take long for Tharanor to run out of strength completely, and he leaned against the door for support, feeling his more reasonable side chiding him for losing his cool so easily.
‘Done?’ Valia asked.
‘Shut up,’ Tharanor replied. ‘How did you even get in here? You haven’t joined them, have you?’
‘The paladins?’ Valia asked, and snorted. ‘No, I have no time for them. They’re a bit busy right now, though – it seems that there’s been a break-out somewhere in the hold, would you believe? Someone has let a bunch of the Blade out, and it’s caused an awful commotion.’
‘Why would you help the Blade?’ Tharanor asked, putting a hand to his side as the pain of his injuries returned to him in full, not helped by his prior attempts to break down the door.
‘I’m helping myself,’ Valia replied. She laid a hand upon the cell door. ‘Now, you were kind enough to let me live, so how about I return the favour? I took the time to get the key to the cells, and am feeling in a generous mood. So how about it? Do you want out?’
‘I will kill you if you let me out,’ Tharanor replied.
Valia let out a sharp laugh. ‘Well, there’s that honesty again, even if you don’t have much common sense. Up to you, though – you can stay in there, if you like your cell.’
Tharanor bowed his head. He did want to escape. If the paladins won back the hold, and Malthanes decided to get information out of him again, he didn’t know that he’d be able to survive the experience. Taking Valia’s offer would give him the opportunity to find Obdo and Neurion, so they could leave Stornis Hold together and return to safety.
But it meant accepting help from Valia.
He wiped his brow and slowed his breathing, trying to allow only reason to operate in his mind, but his hatred of Valia was overpowering. That she was alive, while Yuriath was gone, was disgusting – a mockery of justice, and his own fault for listening to Archimegadon and being merciful. Why should she live now, to continue torturing him?
He could do nothing to get revenge while imprisoned, however. If Valia was offering to let him free, then that meant, even if not now, then at least at some point in the future he’d have the opportunity for revenge. Valia had the advantage for the time being, but he could change that later with some reasoned thinking.
‘Alright, Valia,’ Tharanor said, turning to peer through the bars in the cell door’s small window.
Valia looked back up at him, for a moment without her usual mocking expression, and he was struck by the thought of her actually being a normal person, rather than the hateful being who had destroyed his life. Then her smile returned, and so too did his hatred of her.
‘Made your decision?’ Valia asked.
‘I have,’ Tharanor replied. ‘I agree for you to let me free, but… I do not wish to stick around with you. After I’m free, I’ll make my own way.’
‘You’re not going to do well without your fancy sword,’ Valia said.
‘Malthanes took it from me,’ Tharanor said. ‘I doubt I’ll see it again.’
Valia arched an eyebrow at him, and then set to unlocking the cell door. When she was done, she gave him an appraising look and pocketed the keys. Tharanor eyed her as well, in her green and brown travelling gear. While it was fairly light, he could see that she had a mail shirt on underneath the green jerkin, and he doubted that he’d come off best in a fight with her. No, for now he would let her be.
‘You look terrible,’ Valia said.
‘Malthanes took a dislike to me,’ Tharanor said.
‘Clearly.’ Valia drew her sword with her left hand and Tharanor tensed, but she just smiled at him. ‘It’s not for you. I have business with your friend Malthanes.’
She turned and walked away from Tharanor without a single glance back, and Tharanor became aware of how vulnerable he was, unarmed and injured as he was right now. Despite his pride screaming at him, he limped down the corridor after Valia, and after a few paces she turned and gave him a knowing smirk.
‘Still need something?’ she asked.
‘You’re just going to leave me unarmed?’ Tharanor returned.
‘Only a couple of minutes ago, you said you were going to kill me,’ Valia replied. ‘I’m not going to give you the means to do so.’
Valia carried on walking along the corridor, while Tharanor, burning with shame, followed her quietly, cursing whatever gods were responsible for his dependence on her for survival. She was carrying the same shield she’d had back in Ferrina, with the featureless face emblem and thorn borders, but her sword was new, since her own had fallen from the edge of Thorn’argen at the conclusion of their battle. To her credit, she was careful to check for any possible assailants, and even appeared to keep an eye out behind on Tharanor’s behalf as well.
They entered the central chamber of the hold, and the sounds of fighting became more pronounced, rising from below as though the gates of the underworld had been opened and the torment of the dead was drifting across the boundary. Valia looked questioningly at Tharanor.
‘You played with Malthanes before,’ she said. ‘Where do you think I’ll find him?’
Tharanor glared at her, determined not to let her feel that her crimes had been forgotten, but chose to answer all the same. ‘His office was up here. I can lead you there.’
‘Alright, but no tricks,’ Valia said with a wink. ‘It’s a long drop, and I guarantee that I’ll win this fight.’
While he disliked helping Valia, she was at least some protection if they ran into any paladins, and she might be able to help him get his sword back. Besides, if she got in a fight with Malthanes, then Tharanor would be happy with either of them dying, and might even get the opportunity to kill the survivor and save the world a lot of trouble.
Whatever disturbance the Blade had caused, it seemed that the paladins had abandoned their posts up on the higher levels, as Valia and Tharanor encountered no resistance on their way to the office. It was a lot darker in the hold at night, which made it difficult at times to match it up with his vague memory of the route he’d taken before, but they eventually reached the corridor with Malthanes’s office, and Tharanor grabbed Valia’s arm to stop her.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘It’s that door there.’
Valia was all business now, and simply nodded. ‘Got it. Stay here.’
She crept ahead, and then kicked the door with full force, splintering the frame and sending it crashing into a shelf behind it. A moment passed, and then she looked over at Tharanor with a regretful grin and shook her leg.
‘Oww.’ She coughed. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t look like he’s in.’
They ventured into the office together, but it appeared that Malthanes had left with some haste. His chair was lying on the floor, as though he’d stood up in a rush, and several papers were scattered around it. Tharanor knelt carefully and collected a few, which he looked through. He was curious to see what sort of business Malthanes was actually conducting in here.
Valia stood next to him, sifting through some of the papers that were still on his desk. She made a noise and picked up one of the sheets.
‘That’s interesting,’ Valia said.
‘What is?’ Tharanor asked.
‘This note from Salestis,’ Valia replied, and she handed it over to Tharanor. ‘Here, you have a look.’
‘Is this supposed to mean something to me?’ Tharanor asked.
‘It probably will when the old man arrives,’ Valia replied. ‘He’s on his way here now, so you can ask him about it.’
While Tharanor looked at the sheet of paper, trying to make some sense of it, Valia checked around the rest of the room, and then poked her head in the cell where Tharanor had been interrogated.
‘What’s this here?’ Valia asked.
Tharanor felt an involuntary shiver, and joined her at the cell. ‘This is his personal torture chamber,’ he replied, stepping inside to look around. The smell was repulsive. ‘It’s where he…’
The door shut behind him, and he heard the key turn in the lock.
Tharanor tried to pull the door open, but it barely even moved. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Sorry,’ Valia replied with a grin. She reached up and took down Tharanor’s sword, which Malthanes had stored on a shelf, and she waved it tauntingly in front of him. ‘If there’s no Malthanes, then I’ll just take this instead. And don’t worry – that’ll be the safest place for you while all of this happens.’
‘Let me out, Valia,’ Tharanor said.
‘I’ll even leave you my old sword,’ Valia said. ‘Look, I’m putting it here.’
She laid it on the floor in front of the cell.
‘Don’t leave me here, Valia!’ Tharanor said.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Valia said. ‘Seeya round, Tharanor.’
‘Valia!’ Tharanor shouted, but she just winked and left him there, and he slammed a fist in rage against the door.
*
Obdo and Neurion were not the sorts to take part in prison rebellions on a regular basis. For one, Obdo was just a former farmhand, and his battle-training was restricted, for the most part, to drunken brawls that he generally fled from, though since meeting Archimegadon he’d found himself in more than one unpleasant circumstance. Neurion, of the two, had actually trained with a sword, but he was not the best at it, unless he managed to cast the Spell of Holy Fury, which empowered his sword to fight pretty much without his help. Neither one sought to get into any real scraps if they could help it.
However, a jailbreak was how they found themselves spending their night. Somebody had opened a bunch of cell doors on one of the floors of the hold, and with practiced precision the Blade had gone around freeing their own, banding together and launching an attack on the nearby paladin guards. Neurion had not been eager to fight his own people, and indeed Obdo had pointed out that he’d better not use his paladin abilities, since chances were that would earn him a swift death at the hands of the over-eager Fallen Blade.
It soon became clear that they weren’t alone in Stornis Hold. Obdo assumed it was other freed prisoners at first, but after some time had passed, he saw paladins cast from the upper floors, heard inhuman noises, and finally encountered paladins fleeing down the stairways.
‘What do you think has them spooked?’ Obdo asked.
‘I don’t know, but I feel that we should arm ourselves soon,’ Neurion replied.
They tried to barge their way through crowds of ex-prisoners to check rooms for weaponry, but were met with disappointment at every turn. It was only after they managed to ambush a paladin in the privy that Neurion was able to get a sword, though he felt particularly bad for the sword’s former owner.
Shortly after, they heard panicked cries, and raced back to the centre of the hold (well, Neurion raced there, while Obdo needed to be dragged after him) to find the source of the commotion. They both looked up and froze as they saw something they’d hoped was long gone.
Standing over the corpse of a paladin that had tried to flee down the nearest stairway, they found the scaled form of one of the demons that had served Marr. With a scaled body that resembled a panther, but a reptilian face, no eyes, and plenty of fangs, the demon was a reminder of the horror that had awaited them when they’d entered Ferrina under Marr’s control.
But they were still alive? Obdo had thought they’d cleared them all out. He tried to back away slowly, hoping the creature was so involved in eating its prey that it hadn’t noticed either himself or Neurion.
‘You look surprised,’ said a voice, and Obdo turned to get his second horrible shock of the night.
‘Valia,’ he said, and he tried to adopt an unarmed brawling stance, since he lacked any weapons of his own.
Neurion muttered a few words, his eyes fixed on Valia, and light burst into life around his sword blade.
‘No need for that,’ Valia said. ‘I’m the one who let your friends free.’
‘You?’ Obdo asked.
‘Me,’ Valia replied, grinning. ‘Don’t worry about these guys – they won’t hurt you or your friends, unless you provoke them of course.’
Obdo glanced at the nearby demon, which was facing Valia and making a noise that sounded suspiciously like purring.
‘We’re all enemies of t
he paladins here,’ Valia said. ‘No offence, Neurion. Say hello to the old man for me, when he gets here.’
‘Sir Mage is coming here?’ Obdo asked.
‘He’s a bit slower on the road than me, but yes, he is,’ Valia replied. ‘He’s going to be so cross when he realises I rescued you first.’
‘What are you after?’ Neurion asked.
‘You’re going to find out soon that the paladins you adore aren’t as nice as you think,’ Valia replied.
‘I kinda guessed that already, ma’am,’ Obdo said.
Valia arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Oh, they have room to get worse. You’ll see!’
‘Great,’ Obdo said.
‘I thought Marr was dead,’ Neurion said.
‘He is,’ Valia said. ‘I inherited his spare demons, though. They follow me now, and they are so useful, don’t you think?’
Obdo made a face. ‘If you say so, miss. You really aren’t here to kill us?’
‘You spared me,’ Valia replied. ‘I am many bad things, but don’t let it be said that I’m ungrateful.’ She winked. ‘Oh, that reminds me.’ She fished in her pocket and tossed Obdo a key. ‘Tharanor got frightened and locked himself in the cell in Malthanes’s office up on one of the higher floors. He asked me to give you the key.’
‘Uhm.’
‘Let him out after the battle,’ Valia said. ‘He’s in no state for fighting.’
‘Right you are, ma’am.’
‘Good boy,’ Valia said. ‘Now, I’ll see you two later, I expect. Take care.’
She walked past them and patted the demon on the head, and it loped after her as she left. Obdo and Neurion stared at each other in total bemusement, unsure what had just happened.
Chapter Sixteen: Settling Dust
