The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 68
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“Take her to the dungeon,” he said in a simple, calm voice.
She glanced at Dieyre who smiled at her knowingly and inclined his head, as if providing the offer one last time. She was tempted to stamp on his foot. She would have except for the overwhelming compulsion which tugged at her when the Dochte Mandar entered and seized her arms.
Lia was escorted into the bowels of the fortress, plunging into a lair of darkness lit occasionally by the stain of fire from the serpent-torches. She was weak with hunger and fatigue. Fear gnawed at her incessantly, each step bringing her deeper and deeper into the lair. Her heart struck like a hammer and anvil. There was not even the dregs of the Medium now, except for the Aldermaston’s presence. He radiated it so blindingly, yet it was false. It was an aura that seemed to mask his true nature. She blinked, staring at the trim of his hair, the polish of his rings. His clothes were easily the most expensive she had seen.
Ahead a huge iron-bound door was opened, and that is when she heard the scream. It came from a man in agony. The sound made her shiver and shudder. It was pain – a total abandonment to pain. As the scream ended, she heard the voice sobbing and shouting out in Pry-rian, “By Cheshu, I will kill you all! You will all…” The threat was interrupted with another scream.
It was Martin.
The interior was hazy and wreathed with smoke. She smelled something burning. It was a sharp smell, an unfamiliar smell. Her heart lurched with despair.
The room had three men, two of which were Dochte Mandar. In the center of the room was a Leering. She could not see its face, but she saw its pocked surface glowing red hot. Kneeling before the Leering was Martin, in chains, his hands smoking as they were held and pressed against the burning stone. The Leering was blackened, diseased, constantly burning as the one in the grove she had seen before. The torturers were pressing Martin’s hands against it, and he howled with pain.
Lia shook with rage and she felt the hands tighten around her arms. She tried to quell the Leering with her thoughts, but it would not obey her. She ground her teeth, breathless with agony at seeing him suffer. Her mind went black with fury.
With a quick pull on her arms, she slammed her heel on the foot of the Dochte Mandar holding her. He yelped with pain as she tugged her arm free. With her free hand, she struck the other Dochte Mandar in the throat and he let go as well, gagging at the blow. Lia rushed the two holding Martin and that was when she saw the other man, the third who had been there all along. He clipped her from behind, grabbing her arm and then she found herself face first on the floor, arm yanked back so hard she wailed in pain.
“Thank you, Kishion,” said the Aldermaston. Her cheek scraped against the floor. She could only see the Aldermaston’s fur-lined boots. “Chain her hands and ankles. She is as dangerous as this one. Just as Dieyre warned. Strip her weapons.”
Lia wanted to struggle, but she could not think beyond the excruciating agony happening in her shoulder. The kishion controlled her as the chains were brought. Her boots were removed and her ankles shackled. Her leather bracers were stripped away and replaced by iron locks as well. Lia struggled as they took away her rucksack, her dagger, her gladius, but she could not resist. Someone untied the pouch at her waist and opened it.
“Ah, a Cruciger orb!” the Aldermaston crooned. “How delightful. You are gifted, as we were told. Wonderful. Take the other wretch to his cell. I would speak with her a moment.”
Lia was dumped unceremoniously to the floor, her shoulders still throbbing in agony. She panted, blinking the tears away as Martin was dragged to a door made of iron bars and thrust inside.
“Leave us,” the Aldermaston said pleasantly.
“Be wary,” the others warned. “Be on your guard.”
“The kishion will keep me safe. He is trained to kill mastons and hunters. Even Pry-rian hunters.” The others of the Dochte Mandar abandoned the chamber and the door was shut and locked from without.
Lia scooted away from the Aldermaston as he approached her. The feeling of everything light and good was sucked from her as he approached. The kishion loitered in the shadows, his eyes on her constantly. She glanced about the room, seeing five doors made of bars on five of the six walls and the other one they had entered from made of solid iron. She could see Martin slumped on the floor, trembling and moaning.
“The only reason you would have this,” the Aldermaston said, hefting the orb in his hand. “Is if you could use it. You are strong in the Medium, child. That will serve you well here.”
Lia clenched her jaw, staring at him with fear and loathing.
She glanced at Dieyre who smiled at her knowingly and inclined his head, as if providing the offer one last time. She was tempted to stamp on his foot. She would have except for the overwhelming compulsion which tugged at her when the Dochte Mandar entered and seized her arms.
Lia was escorted into the bowels of the fortress, plunging into a lair of darkness lit occasionally by the stain of fire from the serpent-torches. She was weak with hunger and fatigue. Fear gnawed at her incessantly, each step bringing her deeper and deeper into the lair. Her heart struck like a hammer and anvil. There was not even the dregs of the Medium now, except for the Aldermaston’s presence. He radiated it so blindingly, yet it was false. It was an aura that seemed to mask his true nature. She blinked, staring at the trim of his hair, the polish of his rings. His clothes were easily the most expensive she had seen.
Ahead a huge iron-bound door was opened, and that is when she heard the scream. It came from a man in agony. The sound made her shiver and shudder. It was pain – a total abandonment to pain. As the scream ended, she heard the voice sobbing and shouting out in Pry-rian, “By Cheshu, I will kill you all! You will all…” The threat was interrupted with another scream.
It was Martin.
The interior was hazy and wreathed with smoke. She smelled something burning. It was a sharp smell, an unfamiliar smell. Her heart lurched with despair.
The room had three men, two of which were Dochte Mandar. In the center of the room was a Leering. She could not see its face, but she saw its pocked surface glowing red hot. Kneeling before the Leering was Martin, in chains, his hands smoking as they were held and pressed against the burning stone. The Leering was blackened, diseased, constantly burning as the one in the grove she had seen before. The torturers were pressing Martin’s hands against it, and he howled with pain.
Lia shook with rage and she felt the hands tighten around her arms. She tried to quell the Leering with her thoughts, but it would not obey her. She ground her teeth, breathless with agony at seeing him suffer. Her mind went black with fury.
With a quick pull on her arms, she slammed her heel on the foot of the Dochte Mandar holding her. He yelped with pain as she tugged her arm free. With her free hand, she struck the other Dochte Mandar in the throat and he let go as well, gagging at the blow. Lia rushed the two holding Martin and that was when she saw the other man, the third who had been there all along. He clipped her from behind, grabbing her arm and then she found herself face first on the floor, arm yanked back so hard she wailed in pain.
“Thank you, Kishion,” said the Aldermaston. Her cheek scraped against the floor. She could only see the Aldermaston’s fur-lined boots. “Chain her hands and ankles. She is as dangerous as this one. Just as Dieyre warned. Strip her weapons.”
Lia wanted to struggle, but she could not think beyond the excruciating agony happening in her shoulder. The kishion controlled her as the chains were brought. Her boots were removed and her ankles shackled. Her leather bracers were stripped away and replaced by iron locks as well. Lia struggled as they took away her rucksack, her dagger, her gladius, but she could not resist. Someone untied the pouch at her waist and opened it.
“Ah, a Cruciger orb!” the Aldermaston crooned. “How delightful. You are gifted, as we were told. Wonderful. Take the other wretch to his cell. I would speak with her a moment.”
Lia was dumped unceremoniously to the floor, her shoulders still throbbing in agony. She panted, blinking the tears away as Martin was dragged to a door made of iron bars and thrust inside.
“Leave us,” the Aldermaston said pleasantly.
“Be wary,” the others warned. “Be on your guard.”
“The kishion will keep me safe. He is trained to kill mastons and hunters. Even Pry-rian hunters.” The others of the Dochte Mandar abandoned the chamber and the door was shut and locked from without.
Lia scooted away from the Aldermaston as he approached her. The feeling of everything light and good was sucked from her as he approached. The kishion loitered in the shadows, his eyes on her constantly. She glanced about the room, seeing five doors made of bars on five of the six walls and the other one they had entered from made of solid iron. She could see Martin slumped on the floor, trembling and moaning.
“The only reason you would have this,” the Aldermaston said, hefting the orb in his hand. “Is if you could use it. You are strong in the Medium, child. That will serve you well here.”
Lia clenched her jaw, staring at him with fear and loathing.
