by Heath Pfaff
"You will not threaten Malice in front of me. I am cooperating to the fullest extent of my will, but you cannot get from me that which is not mine to give. I have told you all I know, and even served, admittedly unknowingly, as your stud. I can do no more." I dropped her as I finished speaking, and she fell the few feet to the floor. I felt a sword point at my back, the dangerous tip pressing with enough pressure to draw blood. Rew stared up at me with eyes wide and full of terror. Her mouth hung opened as if in a scream she couldn't force free.
"Monster. . ." She muttered the word over and over again.
"Step away from Rew, Lowin, or I will cut you apart." It was Snow's voice, and her tone was deadly serious. I did as she asked, stepping away from Trina Rew, and moving further back into my room. I turned to face the woman with the sword.
Snow's face was calm, but there was a mix of emotions playing behind her eyes. I sensed fear from her again, even though she stood at the other end of a sword. She looked at me incredulously, even as the other guards worked on getting the door open.
"Trina is right, you really are a monster." Snow said quietly, her words pitched so that only I could hear. "I'm fast, but I could barely see. . ." Another Knight walked up beside her, sword drawn, and Snow fell silent.
The other Knight, a woman I didn't recognize, spit at my feet. "We should just kill you now. Ravage is all broken up. He looks like he's been trampled by a herd of reave haulers." The female Knight drew in closer, her sword leveled at my neck. "I don't know why they even let you live this long." The murderous intent was obvious in her eyes.
"Don't you kill him, Rage. His actions were uncalled for, but I provoked them." Trina called from where she was slowly standing, still shaking visibly. "I said things I shouldn't have, thinking he was hiding the truth, but I was wrong, and I will take responsibility for this. The king has given Malice his protection, and it wasn't my place to threaten her." She said this last part while looking at me. Fear colored her expression.
Rage did not look convinced. "There is always someone stepping in to save you, murdering scum." She looked as though she might still attack, but Snow put a hand atop her sword blade and pushed it down. Rage looked at the white furred Knight, a look close to betrayal on her features, and then she turned to me and spat in my direction again before sheathing her weapon.
"You can leave. The situation is under control." Snow said, her eyes never leaving mine, her sword point remaining up.
Rage left, with some hesitation. Once she was out of the room, after helping the others remove the crumpled body of the Knight that had been called Ravage, Snow lowered her weapon. Trina stood behind her, a few feet back.
Snow returned her weapon to its sheath, but did not take her eyes from me. Trina only stayed a moment more before she turned and left the room with the others, leaving me alone with Snow. The white clawed Knight was studying me with renewed intensity, as though looking for some aspect of me that remained hidden.
"I'm not a whore." She finally said, breaking the silence. "I agreed to bed you because none of the others wanted to do it, and no few of them indicated they might kill you if given such an opportunity." Her words struck me as strange, for it sounded as though she were trying to raise my opinion of her, not something most of the Knights would have cared to do since they didn't consider me worthy of the life I lived. "I did what I did so they wouldn't have to, and because the king wants you alive."
My heart felt suddenly heavy with guilt. "Don't let my words bother you. They were spoken in anger, and I didn't mean them." I didn't feel any better about what had passed between us, but I regretted lashing out at Snow. If what she said was true, and I had no reason to doubt that it was, she had in essence sacrificed herself for her duty. It was unpleasant to think of my company as a "sacrifice," but I understood all the same.
"For what it's worth, once we got started, I did enjoy myself." She said, and then, after hesitating a moment she added, "If you try to escape, I'll have to kill you, so please don't try. I don't understand why you betrayed the king, but I don't think you're an evil person. I have been a Knight for a long time, and I've met many terrible people. You are different. So, please, don't make me kill you." She turned and departed, sealing the door behind her.
I couldn't begin to make sense of her words, but I found some comfort in them. Snow was one less person who hated me, and that, at least, was something I could appreciate.
I stood in silence, listening to the mutter of my heart in my chest, beating at the same strange, fierce pace it had been beating for weeks. What had just occurred - my speed, my strength - should have been crippling, or even fatal to me. Yet, I found that I wasn't even winded. Something had changed within me.
I slept, and no one came. Weeks swept by, and then months passed with nothing more than food being brought to me. I tried to talk to those who brought my rations, but they did not answer, and their Knight guards shot murderous glances in my direction. I had thought someone would come to talk with me about what had happened with Trina and Snow, but they did not, and as time became a blurred haze of passing moments I began to wonder if I had been forgotten.
Thoughts of Malice and Kay filled my mind. I don't know how long it took, but my confinement finally got to me, and I awoke one day in a great panic. I pounded on the door to my room until my fists were bloody messes. It was to no avail, however. The door was too solid for me to do more than dent it. I demanded audience with the king, and I demanded my freedom, but the guards either did not hear me, or more likely, did not care to acknowledge me.
I stayed like that for a long time, clawing at the walls and door, trying to break free from my prison, but I achieved nothing. No food or drink came to me during that time, though I knew that I was long overdue for both. My mouth was dry, my body tired. Finally, I stopped fighting the walls, and for the first time I considered the prospect that I might be locked in my cell until it fell down around me.
I lay atop my bed, asleep or awake - I couldn't be certain any longer. My dreams and reality seemed to merge and blend together, forming a quasi-existence in which I was able to hold my daughter, and tell her of her mother, and other times I was simply alone in the dark. My last candles had burned out long before, and no one had seen fit to have them replaced, so my room was in complete darkness when the door was sealed.
I dreamed that I saw a march of the dead, a great procession of bodies, faces I'd seen lying dead at Fell Rock, after the Lantern Eye had attacked and destroyed the post. There were the faces of Brutal, Silent, and Wisp, and most terrifying of all, at the end of the parade walked a steadfast Malice, holding little Kaylien in her arms. I screamed and tried to shake the image away, but the dream was so real that it stayed with me in the darkness of my room. I screamed for it to end, and finally it did.
The bed beneath me seemed to rumble and heave, and the stone walls groaned in agony. I shot up from my bed, startled, the grim parade fading around me.
"What was that?" I asked the darkness, for I had grown accustomed to speaking to the walls. I found it somehow comforting to hear my own voice, even if no one was around to answer. Of course, no one replied. The ground shook again beneath my feet.
"Is that real? Is that really happening?" My words were swallowed by the void, a black so pure that even my sensitive eyes found no purchase in its depths. Again and again the world around me thrummed, as if some giant beyond imagining was stepping closer and closer. It was as if the very world beneath my feet was trying to tear itself asunder. I fell to my knees and placed my hands on the floor. The room shook, the vibrations coming to me through the rock.
"This is happening. Something is happening. I am not hallucinating." I spoke aloud, once more knowing the room would not answer. The great pounding kept coming, sporadic and irregular, sometimes louder than others. What, I wondered, was going on beyond the walls of my room?
I banged on the door for the first time since my rush of madness had departed. "What is going on out there?" I demanded o
f my guards.
They did not answer. I pressed my ear to the massive metal door, listening intently for some indication of what was going on beyond my caged world, but I could hear nothing. There were no distant muffled voices, no sounds of feet on tile, nothing but the terrible reverberations of the massive thrumming rolling through the foundation of the castle. I slammed my fist into the door, once, and then again, each time adding more of my considerable strength to the blows. I don't know what I hoped to accomplish, for I had tried to force the door before and failed. My knuckles split and bled with the force of every blow, my bones fracturing and mending with each additional hammering. The door bent, responding to the abuse with a slight dimpling at every impact.
When it was clear that my knuckles would not do the job, I threw my entire body into the effort, slamming against the metal door with all the force I could muster. At first, the door did not give in the least, but then it occurred to me to use my formidable speed. I charged at the door, letting the world slow to a crawl around me. I hit the frame with enough force that, for a few moments, my consciousness went black. When I recovered, I found myself lying on the floor some distance from the door. I could feel my shoulder popping back into socket, and the bone knitting itself back together. I had hit quite hard. The door still stood, imposing and immobile, though now considerably dented. I knew how thick and heavy that boundary that lay before me was, and I knew as well that I had done little to curb its effectiveness at holding me in. I let myself slump to the floor.
I lay in near quietness for a time, the only sound the rumble of the shaking ground, which seemed to be occurring less frequently as the moments fled. Sometime later I heard the sound of a metal bar being slid through a stone slot, and I sat bolt upright. It was the sound of my door being opened.
"Who's there?" I asked, coming to my feet in a second.
The door opened, and wondrous light exploded into my room, blinding me for a second or two until my eyes adjusted. When I saw the two faces looking down at me clearly for the first time, I slumped back to the ground, knowing that I was dreaming again. The death march must have returned, for I was looking at Silent and Malice. The first I knew to be dead, the second I hoped was only dead in my nightmares.
"Lowin, get up. We need to get out of here!" Malice said, and she tossed something at me, a fabric that shimmered against the light spilling in from the darkness. It was a Lucidil cloak, not the kind I'd worn for so many years, just a standard model, but the feel of the cool fabric against my hand was enough to bring back pleasant memories. I looked at the two figures in my room once more, trying to see through the fabric of dreams and darkness.
"Is this real?" I asked.
Malice nodded, and there was a strange look on her face, a mix of relief, panic, and excitement. "Come on, the castle is being overrun with monsters. We have to get out of here now, or we're not going to get out at all."
I looked at Silent as I stood up. "You're dead." I told him, thinking that he, at least, must be my imagination.
The look he shot me was hard, far harder than I had ever seen him level at me before. He held out a sword in a scabbard to me. "Take the weapon and let us depart this place. The Hungering are coming, and they will not leave much of us left if they find us."
I strapped on the sword, and donned the cloak, deciding that any further questions would have to wait. I was so overjoyed to see Malice again, and so surprised to find Silent alive, that it was difficult to stay focused, but I fell back on my training, and prepared for whatever lay ahead. I noted that both Malice and Silent had drawn their swords, so I drew mine as well. The familiar grip of supple suede beneath my fingers was comforting.
Silent, seeing that I was ready, left the room that had been my prison for so long that it seemed a lifetime. He led quickly, but cautiously, his eyes ever alert. As we passed through the corridors of the castle, I found that the whole experience seemed dream-like and frightening. I remembered the passageways through which we were passing, for I had been taken down them once before, but they were silent and dark, most of the torches long burned out. The charred smell of burning crept to my nose, and distantly my ears picked up the sounds of battle, swords clashing against armor and swords, but I could tell these were distant noises.
"How will we get out of here, the front entry can't be safe?" Malice whispered in the dark, but in the stillness of the castle about us, her voice seemed almost loud.
"No, it's not, and the back run is lost as well, but there is another way in and out of this castle, one that very few are aware of." Silent replied.
A terrified scream filled the air of the castle, the voice of a woman howling inarticulately as if suffering some terrible pain. My ears honed on the direction of the sound, and I found my feet turning before I'd even realized it. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Malice staring at me.
Her eyes held a great sadness. She shook her head, "It's already too late for her." The scream stopped abruptly.
Hesitantly, I let myself be turned away from the source of that gut-wrenching cry of agony. "What is out there?" I asked of the two who lead me.
"They're called the Hungering." Silent said, not breaking his pace to speak. "Do you remember those creatures that attacked our ship the night I disappeared? That was one of their light scout ships." There was real fear in his face, not an expression common amongst the Knights of Ethan, or even the Broken Swords, Lucidil's men. "They've come back, and they've come in force."
I remembered the sickly yellow skinned creatures, with their burning red eyes, as they had poured over the railing of their ship, picking at the crew that had been mutilated by canon fire. They had been massive and powerful, with rows of terrifying teeth. A shiver ran down my spine. Brutal had been right. Those creatures had indeed returned. I had feared they might, but had let myself believe it wasn't so. When so much time had passed without hearing of them again, I'd allowed myself to believe the encounter with their ship had been nothing but a chance occurrence.
"We are nothing but a source of food to them." Silent said, his eyes darting about the darkness.
Footfalls sounded, moving in our direction. My ears centered on the disturbance. I didn't know what was coming, but there were more than one, and they were large. I had my suspicions.
"Something is coming." I said, and Silent stopped in his tracks, bringing his sword up defensively.
"Where?" He asked, and I pointed in the direction of the approaching sound. It wasn't long before the others could hear it as well.
"Ready yourself. Attack fast and hard. Strike to remove limbs and sever heads. These demons have multiple hearts and cannot be killed by simply running them through." Silent called out.
I felt Malice at my side, close. Her sword was drawn, and her eyes were watching the dark corridor down which the strange heavy running sound was approaching. Her nearness reminded me of just how much I had missed her over the course of my imprisonment. Her green eyes flashed in my mind, a smile resting on the mouth beneath them. I had not seen that smile in far too long. Such thoughts, however, were for another time.
We stood in a long corridor, hallways branching off to either side at various intervals down the course of the path we currently occupied. The sound was approaching from the very end of hallway, coming from the left. We didn't have to wait long for the source to become clear.
A group of figures charged around the corner. There were seven of them in all, six of them towering nearly seven feet high, dressed in strange hide armor, with yellow skin, and fiercely glowing red eyes. The seventh creature was different. It was low to the ground, but nearly half the size of a war sow, weighing probably three times as much as a man. It had horns protruding from its head, wickedly curved, and six sets of powerful legs on its underside. The creature had no fur, but was instead covered in a deep red flesh that looked as though it were stretched tightly about its skeleton. It had a long pointed snout, with a massive mouth that was muzzled closed. It had no tail, yet moved
with a sinewy, serpentine motion. As it came around the corner, its eyes focused on our small party and it released a horrible squealing sound, something between a wordless blood lust and joy. I choked back my initial fear, and prepared for whatever might follow.
The seven visions torn straight from a nightmare charged us at full tilt. My ears picked up a distinctive "twang," the sound of a stringed weapon firing, and I was barely able to react in time. I knew well enough my two companions would not have heard the stringed weapon fire.
My body shifted into full speed, the world slowing around me. The bolt, a dart not much larger than my hand, but wickedly barbed down the entire length of its shaft, was aimed directly for Silent. I pushed myself through the syrupy slowness of the world, moving faster than the flashing projectile, which, even slowed, was cutting the air smoothly. I knocked it from its course with my sword, and resumed normal speed.
"They have crossbows. Watch out." I told the others, and as a group we blurred into action, charging the enemy with the full ferocity at our disposal. The group of enemies seemed as though it had been trained in fighting our kind, for a full volley of arrows exploded in our direction as soon as we launched forward. I was forced to dive hard to the ground to avoid the rounds, and when I came to my feet I saw that the enemy was drawing up spears and charging forward. I knew they could not see us, for it was clear they were reacting blindly, but the tactic was a good one, for their line of spears made it difficult to get through to their bodies without sustaining injury.