Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Viola touched him on the shoulder. He tensed, but displayed no signs of aggression. Since he was chained tightly, she doubted he could do anything even if he wanted to. “I saw you on the road before they brought you here,” she said. “I know you saw me too.” His whole body seemed to go stiff. “I know you did. Do you remember?”

  “Give me your hand,” he said softly. There was movement from underneath his wrappings, and he managed to slip his fingers out. She hooked her fingers with his, and let him squeeze her hand firmly. Feeling her icy-cold grip, his thumb moved across the top of her hand. “Viola?” he whispered, a slight break in his voice. She fell on him, wrapping him as tightly as she could with her arms. Face pressed against his wrapped cheek, she sobbed relentlessly.

  “But how?” he asked.

  “You remembered when you saw me on the road,” she wailed, rocking him back and forth in her arms.

  “I remember seeing you,” he admitted. “Somehow, I could sense you were like me. I could feel it. Even wearing that silly wig...I still knew. But I have no prior memory of you from before that.”

  She sat back, wiping tears from her eyes. “But you do remember me, right? You know my name. I’m your sister.”

  “I was told I had a sister many years ago. That’s why I know your name. But as far as any memories go,” his shoulders slumped, “I feel as if this is the first time we’ve met. I remember nothing from my youth.”

  Viola surged to her feet. Frantically, she began tugging at his bindings. “I’m getting you out of here!” she said.

  “Stop,” he said, his bound body swaying with each tug. She ran her hand along one of the chains and began tugging at its bolt hammered deep into the stone. “Please stop,” he repeated quietly. “Do you honestly think you’ll break my chains with your bare hands?” She kicked the stone wall in frustration before collapsing on his back, embracing him while she wept. Of course she knew that wasn’t going to work. Her senseless reaction was just a blind panic.

  “Viola, you have to listen to me,” he warned, a hard edge to his suddenly stern voice. “All is not lost. For years I have been working to gain favor with the queen.” He shook his head, not even knowing where to begin. He couldn’t possibly explain it all right now. “You needn’t worry about me. By tomorrow evening, I will be a free man!”

  She came around to face him, her watery eyes dancing with wild excitement. “You have a plan to escape? But how? How are you going to—”

  “There’s no time to explain,” he said. “In only a few hours I’ll be transported back to the keep. You cannot be here when they come for me.” Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder. It hadn’t occurred to her that someone might be coming soon. “To the west of the sands, at the outermost edge of the forest, meet me there tomorrow evening,” he said.

  Viola was so excited that she could hardly contain her emotions. “We’ll finally be together! My friends, you have to meet them. From now on we will take care of each other like the family we are.”

  “No,” he said sternly. “Do not bring the humans with you. You come alone, and then we shall leave together...alone.”

  “But why?” she asked, eyeing the wide-open gate. “I trust them. They’re my family.”

  Jarlen laughed, shaking his bound arms beneath his wrappings. “I, too, once trusted the humans. You see what that earned me?” He shook his chained wrists for emphasis. “Did you see them out there today calling for my head?” Viola said nothing, clearly remembering their calls for blood. In no way could she argue his point.

  “So, you believe you’ve joined up with the good ones? I saw them with you on the road. You even had a tarrin with you,” he said.

  “Her name is Thatra,” Viola whispered.

  “I care not what her name is! Don’t you see? Deception is in their very nature. I imagine you had to slip away into the night just to find me?” Her silence proved answer enough. “By extending your leash a tiny bit, they’ve given you the illusion of freedom. But intuitively, you know you are nothing more than their pet.” The word pet rattled around in her head. “That is why you snuck out in the middle of the night to come find me. Your handlers would have never permitted it otherwise.”

  “But they’re my friends,” she reasoned, the volume of her voice decreasing with each word. She didn’t sound as certain this time.

  “Friends?” he scoffed. “I, too, thought the same thing once. Do you think they throw me into a pit to fight like an animal for their entertainment because they view me as an equal? You and I do not belong in their world. Their actions towards me prove this daily. Your loyalty to these humans can only end one way. Sooner or later, you will outlive your usefulness.” He rattled his chains once more. “If you’re lucky, they will eliminate you rather than bestow this fate upon you.”

  “I-I don’t want to believe you,” she said. “They’ve been so kind to me.”

  “A butcher is kind to a pig before leading it to slaughter,” Jarlen shot back. “That way, the stupid animal is easier to control. Is that what you are, a stupid animal?”

  “No,” she sighed.

  “Good. Now go. You must get out of here before they come for me. Remember, I will meet you tomorrow night.” She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, and started for the open gate.

  “Do not forget,” he called out. “They are not your family. I am. Whatever they told you is nothing more than a well-thought-out lie to get what they want from you. From now on it is just you and me. We do not need them.”

  She smothered the torch in the sand and placed it back on the wall. After peering out into the arena to make sure no one was there, she closed the gate and whirled up to the edge of the pit. It was still plenty dark, but the horizon was just starting to take on an orange hue. Off in the distance, she could see a caravan heading this way. It was that same wheeled cage surrounded by soldiers on horseback. She had left just in time.

  Taking a longer route just to avoid them, she whirled back towards the city. A well-timed spin over the top of the wall, followed by a few hops across the rooftops, found her back at the inn. Feeling drained and confused, she dragged herself back up the steps. Her bed was a welcome sight even if it did make her feel guilty. Why was she allowed to rest in a place like this while he sat all alone in that dark, dank tunnel? But he assured her he had a way out. Although she knew little about his plan, she would trust his judgment.

  Morning light came with the expected knock at her door. She opened her eyes to a surprisingly well-lit room. They must have let her sleep longer than usual. She had no complaints about it, given her eventful night. Starting for the door, she snapped her fingers and veered aside, turning towards the basin. There, she found her wig and eyepieces. Less than a minute later, she was back at the door, fully disguised this time. Xavier was standing there grinning like a child. She acknowledged him with a sleepy glance, then turned away, leaving the door partially open.

  “Good morning,” he said, slipping through the partially open door. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Well enough,” she replied, sounding disinterested while making the bed. Jarlen’s warnings echoed in the back of her mind. Do not trust them... They are your handlers, not your friends... She felt the urge to turn and punch Xavier right in the face. How dare he play with her emotions like that? Is that what you are, a stupid animal? Was she really just a pet to them who would someday outlive its usefulness?

  “I brought you something.” Irritated by just the sound of his voice, she whirled about. He held out a bouquet of purple flowers, their petals tipped with bits of yellow. She froze, hands covering her open mouth. “I found a shop that was open early this morning. When I saw these, I thought of you.” Carefully, she took them from his hand and pulled them to her nose. They smelled so sweet. “You know, just something for the room,” he added.

  “Huh?” she said, lost in the act of admiring her wonderful gift.

  “To add some color to the room? I thought you might put these in a vase with w
ater or something.”

  “Oh, right.” Holding them carefully as if they were made of crystal, she made her way over to the mantle. There was no vase, but she did have a leftover cup sitting there. It would have to do. Cup in one hand, flowers in the other, she went over to the basin to scoop up some water. Part of her was furious at herself for being so happy with the gift. It’s a lie. He’s just trying to trick me. She sniffed the flowers once more. But I can pretend it’s real. I can pretend he likes me. There’s no harm in that, right?

  “I was hoping to take you someplace today,” he called out, wondering what was taking her so long. “There is a tavern up the street that claims to have the finest roast pig in Shadowfen, or so I hear. Liam says we can explore the city as long as we stay in pairs and don’t split up. Want to be my partner?” he teased.

  She laughed to herself, still facing away while holding the cup of flowers. She sniffed them again, a tear rolling down her cheek. It’s all right as long as I know it’s pretend. After tonight, it won’t matter, anyway. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she composed herself and went back into the room. Setting the cup up on the mantle, she turned to Xavier and forced a smile. “Then I guess we better get going.”

  *

  Standing around at his usual post, the guardsman scratched at his greasy beard. Another day, another boring shift. Hearing footsteps thump down the steps, he straightened, trying to appear alert. “Oh,” he said, eyes lighting up with surprise. “I-I wasn’t informed that—” A blade flashed across his neck, sending a red mist spattering across the wall. Eyes wide open, he hit the floor with a heavy thud. As air hissed through his slashed throat, two pairs of heavy black boots stepped right over the dying man.

  Alone in his cell, Jarlen lay on his bed of straw, fingers locked behind his head while gazing at the ceiling. Emotions swirled through his mind, and he found it hard to focus his thoughts. Viola, his long-lost sister, had come to him out of nowhere. This, just after he had somehow survived a tournament that was supposed to be his last. And how did he manage to do that? That portal had just snapped shut for some reason, practically handing him a victory. Faulty magic, perhaps? Did Viola have something to do with that? He shook the thought away, thinking it was probably best to count his blessings rather than wonder where they came from.

  Now all he had to do was wait. He was well aware of Bella’s love for him. She would crawl to the farthest corners of Ayrith if he asked her to. She had promised she would free him, and he had no reason to doubt her. Just outside, he could hear someone lifting the bolt from the door. Good, she has finally come for me. Now to be rid of this—

  The door blasted inward. Alarmed, Jarlen lunged to his feet. Diovok entered, his hand raised as a shining light radiated from underneath his mask. Blinding pain crackled through Jarlen’s body, immobilizing his senses, dropping him to his knees. The king strolled in behind him. Casually, he leaned against the wall with his hands tucked behind him.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the demon of Shadowfen down on his knees before his king,” Milo said, wearing a bored expression, turning over his hand to get a better look at his fingernails. After a subtle gesture towards the shaman, the searing pain eased. Jarlen gasped as paralyzed lungs finally managed to take in some air. “Don’t you have something to tell your king?” Shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths, Jarlen managed to get back to his hands and knees. He glanced up, feigning a vacant stare as drool dripped from the corner of his mouth.

  When Milo gestured a second time, the fiery pain increased tenfold. The assault was beyond anything he had ever felt. With every muscle in his body contracting at once, he vomited violently. Twitching on the ground, his mind could grasp nothing but pain. A tiny voice inside his head urged him to cling to his sanity—a weak, distant voice that was fading quickly. Mere seconds felt like hours... He endured a virtual lifetime of searing pain no mind, human or otherwise, was ever meant to endure.

  At last the pain subsided in a cool rush. He was still uncomfortable, but the dull ache was a far cry from the hellish torment endured just moments ago. “Although I still consider you to be little more than an animal, I know you can speak,” Milo growled. “I would suggest you do so now. My patience with you is at an end. Reveal to me now what I already know to be true and spare us the absurdity of this game.” Jarlen’s mind raced with panic. How did he find out? Was there any way out of this? And where was Bella when he needed her the most?

  “Very well,” said the king, turning away with a roll of his eyes. A measured amount of pain began coursing through Jarlen’s body once more. It was nowhere near the level of torment before, but it was still agonizing. “Truth be told,” the king continued, “I don’t really believe in second chances. Especially when I hold all the advantage and you hold nothing at all. I imagine you’re wondering where my lovely wife is right about now.”

  Jarlen’s head snapped up, his tortured eyes managing to focus on the king.

  “If it helps to put your mind at ease, her suffering will be far worse than your own,” he continued. “You see, you have already lost. Your pointless defiance shall only prolong your agony.” After he motioned towards the door, Diovok was the first to leave. “We’ll just leave you in this state for a day or two. The pain isn’t exactly unbearable, yes? But believe me, within the next two hours or so, you will be begging for death. See you tomorrow.” Milo stepped through the door. “Or perhaps the day after,” the king added with a shrug.

  As the door closed, the room plunged into darkness. Jarlen writhed on the floor, his body twisting this way and that, desperately searching for relief that would never come. His back arched, hips rising up as his hand slapped the floor. Two days? He would be insane within the hour. Thrashing, his fingers tangled in his hair before ripping out a handful. Fire coursed through his veins. Had it even been a minute? He was already losing his mind!

  “Wait!” he shrieked, crawling his way towards the door. “I’ll say anything you want! I’ll do anything you want. Just please, make it stop!” The door creaked inward and Milo and Diovok stepped back in. Obviously they had been waiting just outside, knowing he would crack almost immediately. That fact alone humiliated Jarlen to no end.

  “Now you see how easy that was?” said the king, tapping Diovok on the arm. “Jarlen here can be a man of reason when he chooses to. However, I do believe an infant child could have held out longer.” He looked down at the broken creature, who had tears streaming down his face. “Did you really think we were going to leave you here for two days? I don’t have the time, nor the patience, for such games, no matter how entertaining that may have proven. I only wanted one thing from you.” He bent down to one knee, lifting Jarlen’s tear-streaked face with a finger under the chin. “I wanted the famed beast of Shadowfen to cry out, begging me for mercy. I shall cherish that pitiful cry for the rest of my days.” He stood, then motioned to Diovok. “Kill him.”

  When Diovok lifted his hand, Jarlen’s whole body erupted with white-hot pain. It was worse than before, if that were even possible. With savage agony exploding through every pore, he was certain his eyes would fly free from their sockets. Mouth foaming with white spittle, body wracked with spasms, Jarlen wailed, using the last inch of his quickly fading alertness to assemble one final, desperate plea. Even to his own ears, the sentence was nothing but a garble of words.

  As the pain slowly subsided, he gasped, drawing in an urgent breath. “What did you say?” asked the king, stepping forward. Jarlen realized then that his words must have been just coherent enough to draw the king’s interest.

  Jarlen rose up on his hands and knees. With thick white strings of saliva hanging from his wide-open mouth, tears streaming down the sides of his face, he crawled towards the king. Humiliated, groveling, he wrapped his hand around the king’s ankle. “I said,” he took a deep breath, “that I have something you want. I can offer you something that no one else can.”

  The king grinned an evil, triumphant smile as he bent down near the pathe
tic, broken creature. “I’m listening,” he whispered.

  *

  After deciding to explore on their own for the day, the group broke up into pairs and went their separate ways. Ultimately, Liam decided that if any ghatin spies were secretly roaming the city, they would be looking for a group that matched their descriptions collectively. Separating into groups of two may actually prove to attract less attention.

  Being the odd man out, he decided to take advantage of his solo status by visiting the local inns and playing the curious-old-man bit. Information on the city itself was what he sought, and in this guise was the perfect way to obtain it.

  Thatra and Owen decided to browse the local blacksmiths and shop their weapons and armor. Nothing they saw was even close to the quality of what Owen already carried. Orfi was a master blacksmith in his own right, and could forge exotic weapons of the finest quality. But an extra dagger or some other easily hidden weapon could always prove useful. It was certainly worth a look.

  Xavier and Viola spent the early afternoon at the Blade & Hammer Tavern. As promised, they enjoyed a round of fine roasted pig and a local ale that was light, yet sweet. After she downed her third ale, Xavier decided to cut Viola off. She seemed to be enjoying the local brew a little too much.

  Viola remained strangely quiet throughout the meal, prompting Xavier to ramble on in small talk just to break the silence. “Viola?” he said, taking her hand after finishing his third straight story about his life on the road. “Are you feeling all right? You seem a little distracted today. Is there anything on your mind?”

  She forced a weak smile. “I’m just a little tired. Do you mind if we go back now?” With a smile, he pushed back his chair. After tossing three coins down on the table, they headed out into the street arm in arm. I can pretend he likes me. It feels good even if it’s not real. She watched the sky as they strolled along, estimating there were probably only a few hours of daylight left. This was it. It was time.