by Heath Pfaff
The king had denied that he had Kay. Why had he done that, and why had Tyvel warned us that he might? I drew my sword, but I was slower than my vengeful friend. Malice's form blurred, and she launched into a full attack on the guards that approached her. Before she sped up, I saw such a look of rage on her face as I'd never seen there before. Once she was in motion, I saw nothing of her, for she was far too fast.
Four Knights came my way, and I knew with a certainty that I would be killed. I couldn't match them for speed or strength, not with my heart injured as it was. I charged into the closest Knight, hoping to take him by surprise, but he slipped into full speed, knocking my sword high, and charging in fast and straight. The injury happened before I could even register I'd been hit. Pain exploded through my right side and I fell backwards, swinging my sword in a useless defensive arc. His blade had pierced my right side, below my rib cage, and cut all the way through. He was too fast. Another Knight came in at me, he blurred and a blade pierced my right thigh. I fell to the ground, my leg giving way. My heart thudded in my chest, as steady as a drum beat. Could I risk pushing my limits so soon after recovering from my near fatal wounding? If I did not try, I knew I would be dead anyway. All four of the Knights were around me now, and I was about to push my heart forward. It jumped in my chest, pain shot through me, and then Malice was in front of me, blood spattered across her cloak and weapon.
She was injured, but when I glanced back to where she had been fighting, I saw that the four guards that had attacked her lay dead. I pushed my heart again, it pounded fiercely, the world lurched and slowed, pain exploded in my chest and the world resumed normal speed. The figures around me blurred into combat, and I could do nothing to stop them. My eyes traced the indistinct lines of light that marked the passage of movement, but could not pick out the shapes that made those movements.
Suddenly all motions stopped, Malice's body slumped to the ground, a bleeding sword wound starkly evident in the center of her ribs, and a look of shock on her face. She was covered in cuts and gashes. The four Knights blurred back into normal speed, one falling to the ground as his head slid from his neck. The other three stalked in to deliver the killing blow. I threw myself in their path.
"No! We're done. Imprison us, but don't kill her. I will answer for all that has happened. It was I who forced her into this course of action, and it was I who she sought to protect. I accept responsibility for everything that has happened. Please do not kill her!" I pleaded as I never had before. I hated the words I spoke, but for the sake of Malice, I would speak them. I would give the murdering king the honor of seeing me grovel, if that is what it would take to save my friend. The Knights stopped, looking to the dais for their orders.
The king shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "She will probably die anyway. That wound is mortal, even among your kind. But, if you are willing to accept full responsibility, and she is willing to agree to let you take her punishment, I will show her mercy." He turned to his guards. "Take the woman to the infirmary, take the other to our deepest cell, and lock him there until I decide what to do with him."
Malice's eyes were closed, and her skin was so pale as to be almost translucent. I leaned in close to her. "Live. Please, live for me." I kissed her forehead, and then the guards grabbed me by my shoulders and lifted me away. Pain tore through my thigh as I put weight on it, but the wound in my side was already healing. I knew the other injury would be fine by the time we reached our final destination. They took my sword, and removed my equipment. I was led away from Malice, and deep into the depths of the castle's dungeon.
The sound of my cell door closing behind me was only too familiar. On my journey to rescue Kye I had spent a short amount of time locked in another of the king's dungeons. Though I sensed that had been a far less imposing situation, even if it had not seemed so at the time. Deep beneath Kreo castle, I felt certain the consequences of my actions would be dire.
The Knights of Ethan who had locked me away departed, leaving me to the relative darkness of my small stone room. The front of the cell was entirely crafted of sturdy bars. There was a torch burning not far down the corridor through which I'd just walked, so I was not enveloped in total darkness. My eyes used what little light was available efficiently, and I was able to make out most of my surroundings with no trouble.
The room in which I was locked was about six by five paces. There was a pan for waste, and a small amount of hay piled to one side. Other than that, the room was empty, and surprisingly clean. Of course, the cell I'd been brought to was one not intended to keep its prisoners long. I was as good as condemned already. What would become of Kay and Malice, I wondered?
Thinking of my daughter brought tears to my eyes, and this time I did not bother to stifle them. I was alone, and I no longer cared to fight back my emotions. I allowed the salty water to flow until it would not come any longer, and then I sat quietly in the murk and gloom.
It would have been a lie to say I did not fear death, but it would have been a greater lie to say that death was what I feared most. If I could have known that Malice and Kaylien would be treated well, I would have gladly given my life in a moment. That uncertainty, not knowing what future awaited them, was one of the worst things I had ever experienced.
Time loses all meaning without the light of day to keep track of the passing hours. This is especially true in the case of creatures that do not sleep and eat in normal cycles. Without natural light, I found myself lost in a timeless void, trapped with only my thoughts for company. Those thoughts, dark as they were, made poor company indeed.
An immeasurable amount of time passed, somewhere between hours and days I guessed, and my sensitive ears picked up the tread of feet far down the corridor. There were three distinct patterns of movement, two heavier than the third. I listened intently as they drew nearer the front of my cell. Finally the three figures emerged into the light from the torch, blocking out most of it as they took position in front of me. I made out the forms of two Knights of Ethan, one of which was Tempest. The figure between them was the king. I had only seen him once, but once was enough to have forever engraved his wolfish features into my mind.
I grit my teeth together, but stood firm. I guessed that they had come to pronounce my sentence, and I suspected there could be only one recourse for my crimes against the kingdom of men. I was prepared to answer for it if it would save Malice and Kay.
"It is not often someone is foolish enough to come into my kingdom, into my very castle, and make accusations against me in my own meeting hall." The king said, and I could hear the anger in his voice. His tones were no longer magically enhanced, but they still carried the heavy weight of authority. I held my tongue.
"You're probably wondering what fate we have in store for you. . ." He let his words trail off, goading me to speak. I did.
"I only wish for my daughter and Malice to be given the chance to live out their lives. I don't care what becomes of me. Without them I have nothing for which to live anyway." I spoke the truth as it was written into my being. My dearest friend, and my only child, the solitary remnant of her lost mother, were all the treasures I possessed in the world. Without them my life held no meaning, and if I should die so that they might live, maybe there was meaning to be had in such an action.
"That is a noble sentiment, especially coming from one who has turned traitor to the crown." The king's voice was softer, most of the anger seemingly burned off. After a moment's pause, he added, "Malice will survive her wounds. She will not be executed, so long as she cooperates, but I don't know anything of your daughter. Until you burst into my hall and demanded her return, I had not known you had a daughter. My advisor never mentioned it."
I could hear the sincerity in his voice now that the enchantment was removed from his speech. He did not have Kay, and did not know of Kay. My mind reeled at that prospect. What did that mean? If the king had not taken Kay, where had she gone? I suddenly felt my imprisonment more keenly. I yearned to be beyond the pris
on walls, searching for my lost daughter.
"You, Lowin Fenly, are the greatest of fools. I was prepared to forgive you entirely in light of our current situation, but you had to burst into my meeting hall and lay accusations against me." The king shook his head. "That was a stupid thing to do. The crime for falsely accusing the king of a high offense is death, to be carried out within a week."
His words hit like hammer blows in my head. Death was not an option I could afford while Kay's whereabouts were still unknown. I opened my mouth to speak, but the king raised a hand, and I decided it best to remain quiet in my compromised position.
"You are, however, more valuable to me alive than you are dead . . . at the moment. Even if you will not serve me willingly, you should provide some useful information to my researchers. There are a few who are quite eager to find out how it was that you brought life back to Malice's eyes. They have told me for years that such an act was impossible." The king shrugged wearily. "We need every advantage we can get right now. You have been long gone, Lowin, and I do not believe you understand the state of the world. Now is not the time for making new enemies, not when allies are of greater value. Tomorrow, we shall see, but today. . ."
The king turned and started away. I wanted to stop him and say something, but I couldn't imagine what words would be the right ones. I had questions pilling up in my head, but not enough time to sort them all out. The king stopped and turned back to me.
"Cooperate with my researchers, Lowin, and things will go better for Malice. I don't like to make such threats, but we need your cooperation." With that, he turned and walked away. I sat numbly in my cell, going over his words again and again in my head. He didn't have Kay. Some other party was responsible, and I knew not who. I suspected that Tyvel could tell me more, but his box had been taken with the rest of my equipment.
". . . in light of our current situation . . ." The king had said. That was something else to consider. What had changed about the situation of the world that would make the king willing to pardon me, and what information had he thought I was bringing? What of the false ghost? Had Tyvel given the king false information to insure that Malice and I were granted an audience? Another question that immediately jumped to mind; Had Tyvel been trying to get Malice and me to kill the king? Based upon all that happened, that seemed like a logical deduction, but why would Tyvel do such a thing when his life was in the hands of the king? What did the ghost-like man have to accomplish through such deception?
I pondered my many questions through the hours of perpetual gloom. Time slipped away as my thoughts churned. I could find few answers without more information, but I felt a growing suspicion that Lucidil might have something to with the disappearance of my daughter. I could think of no other that would benefit from me attacking the king, but if it was the leader of the Broken Swords, how had he orchestrated it all? Tyvel was the king's advisor, admitted by the king's own words, so how could Lucidil have been involved? It would be easy to accuse the fallen Knight, but at the same time, the facts did not seem to support such an accusation.
More time passed, hours, maybe days, and I paced uselessly within the walls of my cell. I could not sleep, so troubled was my mind, and I was not tired anyway. Being awake, though, was taking its toll on me. I forced myself to sit down and relax. So quiet was the gloom of the dungeon that I could hear the beat of my own heart. It hammered heavily in my chest, seemingly intent upon breaking free from my ribcage, though I had not done anything to force it to beat so quickly.
I guessed that it was reminding me I had pushed it too far in the king's meeting hall. I realized, for the first time, just how serious the damage done to that vital organ had been. No matter how good it might feel in the future, my damaged heart would never fully heal. My body was powerful - perhaps more powerful than any other alive - but my heart could barely sustain a strong run, let alone the levels of pressure it would need to withstand in order to fully take advantage of my strength and speed.
Footsteps on stone sounded, and my ears snapped to attention, picking up the approach of two people. One of them was far lighter than the other, walking with the sway of a female not trained for fighting. The other was a Knight of Ethan, every footstep accompanied by a slight leather creak of sword and belt, and the click of claw on stone. I stood and made myself as presentable as possible. The two figures came into the light of the torch nearest my prison cell.
The Knight of Ethan was female as well, young in appearance, as we all were thanks to the perpetual youth granted us by our eyes. She stood stiff and formal. Her face, all but her mouth, was mostly concealed by her Lucidil Cloak. The sash that could be pulled up to cover the lower half of her features hung freely down the front of her cloak.
The woman whom she was guarding was slight, seeming too thin for her own skin. Her eyes were wide and curious, though she was older than I was by maybe ten years. I guessed her to be one of the king's researchers. She was dressed in a simple brown robe featuring the king's seal on the left breast. For a time she stood merely looking at me, her eyes appraising my worth to whatever project she was working on. There was a certain coldness about her stare, something that told me her compassion stretched only so far as it had to, when held against the prospect of advancing her field of study.
"I have been told that you are responsible for the green eyes of the other one, Malice." Whether she was asking or not, it sounded like a statement to me. I did not answer the scientist. "I have been studying such possibilities for a long time, but have found no way to reverse the decay of the Uliona eyes once it has begun. They are very delicate, and they almost always lose most of their potency in the transfer to a new body. With the female, Malice, how did you revitalize her?"
That was a question that was hard to answer. Malice had been a friend of mine for a long time, and we had been intimate together on two occasions. Her eyes had been black until the morning after we'd lain together the second time. I believe we both suspected it had something to do with that intimacy, but neither of us could be certain. I looked at the researcher who stood before me, and finally I extended my hand through the bars of my cage.
"I am Lowin Fenly, and you are. . ." If I was to discuss such intimacies with the woman, I would know her name at least.
The female Knight of Ethan stepped between us, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"No physical contact with the prisoner. He is dangerous." She said, aiming her words at both the researcher and myself. I withdrew my hand and stalked back into the deeper darkness of my cell. It made sense that they would keep people away from me. They seemed to believe I was still capable of my full physical potential, though I was uncertain why Tyvel had not told them the truth about my condition. I had no ill intent for the researcher, but it was only reasonable to keep her distant.
"I am Trina Rew. You may call me Trina. Now, tell me exactly what you did to bring the color back to your friend's eyes." The skinny woman gave me her name, and cut right to the point.
For Malice's sake, I would tell them what I knew, though it was not something I was comfortable speaking about. I gave her the answer she was looking for in as brief a way as possible, and to my chagrin she demanded more detail. Every time I provided more, she asked further questions. I answered them all, feeling as embarrassed as ever I had. What made it all worse was the barely restrained smirk of the Knight who stood in attendance. I grit my teeth and answered every question I could, until finally the woman seemed content. She turned and departed without so much as word of goodbye.
Sometime later, a person came by with a fresh chamber pot, food, and a basin in which I was able to clean myself to some extent. Everything was passed through a narrow gap beneath the door of the cell. Once all was taken away, I sat in silence once more, and ate my small portion of food. It wasn't good, but it provided nourishment. It took very little food to sustain my body, just as it took very little rest. I waited, and no one came again. Finally, I forced myself to sleep.
Footst
eps woke me. I came to my feet quickly, casting away the fog of sleep as expediently as possible and forcing myself alert. There was only one person coming this time, as I judged by the footfalls, a Knight of Ethan. Even when my food and water was brought, there had always been at least two people, so I was surprised to hear only one. I stood back from the entrance of my small room. Tempest stepped into view.
His eyes passed over me, a look of distaste on his face. "You have fallen far, Lowin Fenly." His coarse voice said. "I had a great deal of faith in you, you know. Kyeia believed that you would be a great source of good in our world."
His words stung more than if he'd merely hit me. Of all the moral issues that had ever plagued me, Kyeia had posed the greatest. She had been loyal to the king, believing in the good that would come of the sacrifice she had made. I had long fought to make myself believe that her death had been right, because she had believed in it, but I had never been able to come to terms with that. One fact dissuaded me from accepting her devotion. The Uliona were bound into a contract that would last as long as a human king reigned. That contract was magically binding, forcing those strongest of the Uliona people to be given up as sacrifice for the creation of the Knights of Ethan. The Uliona had no say-so themselves. The situation was no better than slavery, and I couldn't accept that.