She’d originally thought it was the blow to her head that was making the room move around her but it turned out that they were actually on a ship, and at least some of that movement was the vessel cutting through a mild ocean swell. The room was darker than she’d expected with just a few glass-enclosed lanterns hanging about the walls for light, and the air stank vaguely of kerosene, sweat and the faint but unmistakably coppery smell of blood. It had originally been used for dining, and a long, narrow table still consumed most of the room’s centre although it was unlikely to have meals served on it anytime soon. Most of its length was at present taken up by the prone bodies of Lester and Godfrey, both strapped down tightly with their heads almost touching near the middle.
An old man wearing black robes stood over them on the far side of the table and just behind him, a bearded man in fine, colourful clothes watched on with dark interest. Taller and far younger, he rested against the opposite wall, a long-bladed dagger in his hand and a sword at his belt. To Nev’s right, a small porthole opened out into the blackness of the night beyond while on her right, the only door out of that room was currently closed and flanked by a pair of guards, also armed with swords and wearing plain uniforms of green leather beneath fine links of blackened chainmail.
Lester had been gagged tightly and was currently struggling hard against his bonds to no avail. He was being completely ignored by all concerned as he glared in the old man’s direction, all the while spewing forth an almost unending stream of profanity that although unintelligible because of the gag, was nevertheless clearly quite vile and filthy judging by the tone and meter of his muffled words. Godfrey had not been gagged however, and he was currently speaking freely as he desperately attempted to salvage what he could from the situation.
“Have y’ not heard what I’ve been saying…?” Godfrey growled at that moment, facing away from Nev as he addressed the priest. “We came here lookin’ for work, that’s all… tryin’ to make a few coins to feed the family, for Crystal’s sake…!”
“By operating as assassins, it appears…” Silas hissed darkly, eyes narrowed with hatred, “…how else would this explain the crossbow in the boy’s possession? There are far safer ways to earn ‘a few coins’…”
“It weren’t him...” Godfrey insisted, trying to include as much sincerity in his exasperated reply. “A man would have t’ be insane to take a shot at The Brotherhood!” He added plaintively. “Dunno who it was that killed that poor feller of yours but it weren’t any of us…”
“Just ‘poor, law-abiding citizens’…” Silas observed, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Can’t imagine why you’d need to run from the Blackwatch… surely all just some huge misunderstanding…”
“Yeah… yeah…! Misunderstanding… that’s it…!” Godfrey offered enthusiastically, clutching at any straw the priest was ready to offer. “It was dark: we couldn’t rightly see it was the Blackwatch when they yelled out – thought it was robbers, we did!”
“Mmmh…” the old man mused, displaying a distinctly evil smile “…and this has nothing to do with the fugitive witch you’ve been harbouring?” He added sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Nev and glaring in her direction for the first time as Godfrey’s slim hopes of talking his way out of the situation evaporated completely. “We know who you are, Westacre! A mercenary…! A minor lackey of the damned Southern Oster, working under James Harris! The Blackwatch have been looking for you for a long time!”
“Perhaps we should hand him over…” Prince Baal observed from behind Silas, well aware of the kind of tortures Harald’s men might think up for a wanted man and smirking at the thought. “No doubt they’d pay a handsome reward for such a prize…”
“We may do just that…” Silas agreed with a thoughtful nod, moving slowly around the bottom end of the table, circling Godfrey’s feet. “We’ve our own information to extract first, however…”
“I – I dunno what yer talkin’ about…” Godfrey stammered in vain, making one last, desperate attempt at holding to his original story. “Dunno who this ‘Westicker’ is, but he ain’t me…”
“You see how clever they are, Your Highness…?” Silas observed with grudging admiration. “…How smoothly the lies slip from his tongue? How the tiny details make the difference; like the mispronunciation of his own name as if he’s never heard it before in his life. You’d make a fine politician, boy…” he added, his face hardening into a cold, pitiless expression “...but some advice from one who knows: never play out of your league…!”
Silas was beside him again in an instant, this time with his back to Nev as his right hand flashed out, the crystal necklace wrapped about his palm. The moment it neared Godfrey’s face, it flashed into life and his body went rigid as if suddenly wracked with a seizure. Grunts of discomfort and fear escaped his clenched teeth as he struggled to turn his head just a few centimetres toward Silas, defiance alive and strong in his eyes.
“You think you can fool me, sell-sword?” The old man hissed venomously. “I, who have served The Shard for half a century…? You’ll beg me to hand you over to Harald by the time I’m done…” he continued, withdrawing his hand in that moment and releasing Godfrey’s body from its stricken state.
“I… don’t… know… anythin’…” he wheezed in between deep breaths as the crippling pain he’d just experienced began to fade.
“What were you doing with the witch?” Silas asked coldly, not buying any of it. “Where were you taking her?”
“I told you, I don’t…. uhhhhh…!” The crystal flashed again and Godfrey gasped, arching his back in agony for a second time as his body was gripped by an unseen force that sent slivers of pain lancing through his skull and threatened to crush his chest.
“You have no idea what I could do to you with this. It’s been a long time since you were last at Endweek, boy… I can tell…” Silas noted, almost smiling then as he acknowledged a silent thought within his own mind. “I shall have to be careful: you’re tolerance will be low and I can’t afford to lose you before I’ve got what I need.”
“There are always more traditional methods…” Baal pointed out, casually picking something from his fingernails with the point of his dagger. “I’ve one or two men aboard who are skilled with such things…”
“Indeed, I may ask for your assistance if need be, Your Highness,” Silas conceded with mocking grace, “however I’ve some ideas of my own I can try first…”
“Leave them alone, you… you bastard…!” Nev snarled angrily, no longer able to hold her tongue as she finally found something (or someone) worth swearing properly over; the volume of her words made her aching head spin a little, but she fought to conceal her dizziness as the old man turned slowly in her direction, his face a mask of hatred.
“I’ll deal with you in due course, witch…!” He snapped in return. “Your demise with be breathtaking in its brutality but you’ll need to show some patience: there are others to be dealt with first.”
“They don’t know anything!” She shouted in return, struggling to keep the fear or emotion out of her voice. “And I’m not a bloody witch, you crazy old fool…!”
“You dare to speak to a Quisitor with such disrespect?” Silas hissed with indignant fury, taking a single step forward and lifting his fist as if might strike her, the crystal still wrapped about his knuckles.
Hold…! Desist…!
Those dark, earth-shattering words roared in Silas’ mind in that moment, staying his hand as he used every ounce of his remaining strength to not stagger backward and reveal any weakness.
There is danger here… you cannot – must not – use Our power against this one…
He’d experienced direct communication with The Shard once or twice on his life, but never with such intensity as in that moment, and the force of it came as a huge shock to his system. Silas knew that De Lisle dealt with such incidents on a daily basis, and he admired the man as much for his ability to retain his sanity in the face of that as much
as anything else.
“I – I will enjoy watching you burn…” he growled, recovering quickly and turning back toward to the table. “It speaks, Westacre… sounds almost human…! Was it a spell you were under, or is this simply another Osterman contract?”
Nev was the only person in the room other than Silas who’d heard that warning boom inside their mind, and the hint of fearfulness it contained surprised her as much as his unexpected withdrawal. She’d recoiled in shock initially, preparing for the blow that had never come, but she’d then seen the fear that had also flashed in his eyes briefly upon hearing that silent command. The revelation that either the old man or the faceless voice that controlled him might actually be scared of her was a confusing one indeed.
“I told you…” Godfrey began again, completely oblivious to what had just occurred. “I don’t…”
“…Don’t know anything… yes, I know, I know…” Silas sighed, finishing the sentence for him with a dismissive wave. He was tiring of the cat-and-mouse, and the sudden contact with The Shard had also left him feeling slightly drained. “Perhaps you could explain these to me, instead?”
He moved back to the foot of the long table again, turning toward a narrow bench running the length of the cabin below the porthole, and Nev for the first time noticed that their belongings had been dumped in a pile on the deck there, her duffel bag amongst it all. He withdrew the katana and held it up, drawing the blade halfway to show the rest of the room.
“This is no mercenary’s weapon…” he observed sharply as Baal nodded in silent agreement. “What nobleman did you steal it from? Did you stab them in the back like the coward that you are?”
“Didn’t kill no one for it… it ain’t mine,” Godfrey shrugged simply, telling the absolute truth for the first time.
“You expect me to believe this belongs to the boy?” Silas scoffed, not for a moment considering Nev as an alternative.
“You’re gonna kill us anyway,” he replied, finally giving up on any hope of pretence and deciding for Nev’s sake it was better not to argue regarding the sword’s ownership. “I don’t give two stuffs what you think!”
“Oh, there are so many different ways to die… some far slower than others...” Silas pointed out softly, placing the sword carefully on the bench and returning his attention to the duffel bag. “You will tell me what I want to know or I will show you exactly how long it can take for a man’s life to fade…
“What are these…” the old man continued, his hands diving inside once more and drawing out Nev’s phone and her portable Bluetooth speaker. “Devices of witchcraft, no less…” he decided scornfully, holding them aloft for all to see. “Who knows what evil might come of such things?”
What I would give for Highway to Hell to start blasting out at full volume right now… Nev thought angrily, sending a death stare in his direction.
“Perhaps I could use them to steal your soul…?” She asked instead, forcing a sweetly insincere tone into her voice. Something in the way he’d reacted earlier gave her the distinct feeling the old man was scared of her, and as unlikely as that seemed, it occurred to Nev that that might just give her something to work with.
“The Shard protects me, harpy…” Silas replied, almost throwing the devices onto the bench in his hurry to be rid of them as the rest of those present, Baal included, shifted uneasily at the thought. “Your threats are meaningless to me…”
“So ‘meaningless’ you couldn’t get rid of them fast enough?” She muttered under her breath, her volume calculated to be just loud enough to be heard by everyone else in the room. The remark drew a snort of derision from Godfrey, and even Lester stopped struggling just long enough to give a muffled laugh of his own.
“How I would love to burn you…” Silas snarled, his wrinkled face reddening with humiliation, and the way he raised his hand in her direction, palm open and crystal on display, suggested he wasn’t talking about physical flames. “Alas, my orders are clear in that regard…” he shrugged, sweeping past her close enough to make Nev flinch all the same, much to her own dismay.
“I doubt any direct threats of torture or harm against either of you would be particularly effective,” he continued, his tone calmer now although everyone could nevertheless hear a hint of foreboding behind his words. “How much you care for each other however, is yet to be proven…”
He’d also walked straight past Godfrey and instead came to a halt beside Lester, you boy’s struggles intensifying dramatically with the old man’s presence.
“I remember you…” Silas declared, tilting his head in Lester’s direction. “The Boniface family… Such a shame that sister of yours turned out to be a ‘witch’…” Lester screamed then in rage rather than fear, and it seemed he might dislocate his own limbs in his desperate attempts to free himself and attack the old man. “Calm now… calm now, child…” Silas suggested firmly, extending his hand and holding the glowing crystal over the boy’s head, and this time Lester was afflicted with the same seizures that had gripped Godfrey earlier.
“Leave him alone, you dog…!”
“Where were you taking the witch…?”
“Go to hell!” Godfrey spat darkly, Lester all the while fighting against the pain and shaking his head violently, urging him to reveal nothing.
“Who ordered the contract to escort her?” With a single flex of Silas’ fingers, the crystal brightened and the pain intensified, arcing through every nerve of Lester’s body as he screamed in agony.
“He’s just a boy, damn you…!”
“And he can go in peace… all you need do is tell me what I want to know…” Silas clenched his fist slowly, and behind the gag tied tightly about his face, Lester screamed it agony, his body arching off the table as he jerked his head from side to side, his mind trying to cope with something far beyond its capacity.
“His mind will die first…” the old man said casually, as if discussing the weather. “His body will follow soon enough… he may already be beyond hope…”
Through her own tears, Nev could see Godfrey was breaking. As strong as his sense of honour and duty was, he simply couldn’t ignore the fact that a boy who’d become almost a brother to him was suffering at the hands of this torturer. She knew he’d break eventually and she also knew he’d never forgive himself.
“Despair…!” She wailed, not needing much pretence to affect an expression of misery and defeat. “They said they were taking me somewhere called ‘Despair’…” She elaborated as Silas turned slowly in her direction again and the boy’s pain suddenly ceased, his body sagging back to the table as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.
“Tell ‘em nothing…!” Godfrey howled, anything else he might’ve said cut short as the old man lifted a single finger without even turning back and again sent his body rigid.
“Despair was destroyed years ago. It’s nothing but a fairy tale that crones use to control their grandchildren…” Silas sneered, taking a single step in her direction.
“Believe what you like, but that’s where they were taking me. Despair: a place where accused witches go to hide from The Inquisition, yeah? Despair; the same group that The Blackwatch and the Crowedans thought they’d wiped out on Kings’ Coat, ‘years ago’…?”
“My word; you’ve learned much in the last few days…” Silas conceded, almost impressed. “…Do go on… please…” He urged cautiously, suspicious that Nev was offering up the information far too easily.
“Nothin’ else to tell…” she shrugged, working hard to bring her emotions under control once more now that she had his full attention. “They don’t know where this place is and neither do I. They told me they don’t know – that they weren’t told specifically because of the risk of capture…”
“You lie…!” He declared, inadvertently taking another step toward her then almost leaping backward again as he realised what he’d done.
“You think so?” She asked shrewdly, her confidence beginning to grow with the knowledge
that he really was scared of her for some reason. “Aren’t you guys the ‘All Powerful Brotherhood’? Surely you can use that crystal-thingy of yours to check if I’m telling the truth?”
She knew it was a dangerous game she was now playing, but some long-buried instinct within her sub-conscious was now coming to the fore, guiding her actions. She’d spent the last three days in almost constant danger and she was suddenly shocked by the realisation that it was all starting to become a bit of a bore. With so many potential enemies already inside that room and all three of them tied up like Christmas turkeys, the situation was already hopeless from any logical perspective, so what could possibly be lost by acting in an illogical manner?
“Th – The very thought of using The Shard Crystal in such a fashion is an insult,” he stammered quickly, and this time everyone heard the sudden indecision in his voice – something completely unexpected from a man of Silas’ formidable reputation.
Nev found that she was beyond caring anyway. As she looked across at Lester’s unconscious body, blood trickling in thin streaks from one nostril, she was filled with a rage that overwhelmed everything of the fear and confusion she’d experienced almost constantly since being dragged into that world.
“Well… that’s convenient, isn’t it!” She shot back with equal speed, including as much scorn and attitude as she could manage. “I don’t think that’s it at all… I think you’re scared of me…!”
The shocked hush that enveloped the room in the seconds that followed that outlandish statement was palpable. Godfrey stared on in disbelief, while one of the guards’ jaws literally dropped in surprise.
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