The White Tower (The Aldoran Chronicles: Book 1)

by Michael Wisehart

  Nostrils knocked on the door, alerting the guard outside that they were ready to take the unfortunate soul off for purging—whatever that was. The door opened and the second guard stuck his head in.

  “He’s ready.” Nostrils’ voice held a tinge of sympathy as he helped the guard unshackle the man and drag him toward the doorway while his feet scrambled to try blocking his forward motion. “Please, have mercy! My wife! My child! They’ll starve! Please!”

  The second guard punched into the side of the man’s gut, causing him to halt his struggling and go limp. A trail of tears and light whimpering marked their passage as they slid him through the doorway and beyond. With the sound of the lock being snapped back into place, Ferrin stood there, motionless, haunted by the man’s lingering pleas of desperation.

  Glancing around the room, Ferrin found himself in the unique position of communicating with Rae without the worry of prying eyes and ears. He had to wonder why they had been left alone. Weren’t the inquisitors worried he would try to escape? But then he realized it would have been a rather impossible task, to say the least. Even if he used Rae’s transferal stone to release the metal locks and open the door, what then?

  He was deep underground and the main room held dozens of well-trained guards, not to mention the legates and inquisitors. And even if he was somehow able to manipulate the metal in their blades, the guards were still more than capable of overpowering two underfed prisoners with their bare hands.

  For the first time, he was at a loss for words. The only sound was the flickering of the torches positioned on either side of the room. The soft crackling of their flames produced a rather calming effect. He watched Rae’s chest lift and fall under the weight of her struggling breath. Sitting on the inquisitor’s stool, she held herself up by the edges, knuckles white under the strain. Ferrin could tell she was having difficulty just managing to stay upright.

  “Are you alright?” Of course she’s not alright, you imbecile! She’s been locked in the White Tower and forced to watch humans being carved on every day. What a stupid question!

  “I mean is there anything I can get you?” Ferrin rolled his eyes. What am I possibly going to get her? Deciding his best course of action was to overlook his two previous attempts at simple banter, he moved on. “Do you remember me? My name is Ferrin.”

  Silence.

  “Where are you from?”

  More silence.

  Alright, not exactly the booming conversationalist. “I’m from Rhowynn,” he offered. “I own—” He frowned. “—Or I guess, used to own, a small sword-smithy. It wasn’t exactly Central Square. In fact,” he chuckled, “it wasn’t exactly much at all, but I had plenty of business and the work was fun. Have you ever been to Rhowynn?”

  She shook her head. Well, that’s a start.

  “It’s a beautiful place to live, nestled there between The Northern Heights and Lake Baeron.” Leaning with his back against the wall and one knee bent with his foot propped for balance, Ferrin closed his eyes and let his descriptions take flight. “The mountains are capped in snow all year round and the changing of the leaves during the fall adds such a contrast to the blue waters that it takes your breath away.

  “During the summer, I used to take a skiff out on the lake and just float around for hours. There’s no place quite as peaceful. Paddle out far enough and the only sounds you’ll hear are the waves lapping against the sides of the boat.” He took a deep breath and exhaled, hoping to release some of the tension and unease from his current situation. “It’s a wonderful place to live.”

  Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find her staring at him. Her pale green eyes were filled with curiosity, and something else, which he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  He smiled.

  She looked away.

  Chapter 51 | Rae

  HIS SMILE WAS revolting, Rae thought. Fake. Like all the others.

  There was something in the way he had described his home, though, that gave her pause. It had sounded . . . genuine. She rolled her eyes. She knew better than anyone that it was just a trick. It was just the way men were. Their mouths would open and out would flow some sweet promise of truth, only to discover it had all been a lie to manipulate her for their own gain.

  Men were liars. They would stop at nothing to get their way, to gratify their lust, to satiate their passions. They were no better than animals, big hairy animals, walking around on two legs instead of four. She could see through them. They didn’t fool her. They tried using their lies to get what they wanted. And she knew there was only one thing a man wanted from a woman.

  Now it was her turn.

  She was going to use it against them, well, at least one of them. He probably thought that all his talk of his pretty home, and his pretty mountains, and his pretty boat on his pretty lake was going to turn her heart and make her swoon into his arms. He no doubt figured he would look at her fondly with his deep brown eyes and she would simply give in.

  She was going to teach him differently.

  She was going to show him she could take his desires and turn them against him. She saw the way he looked at her, the way his body convulsed when she would touch him with her healing. She knew what he wanted and she was going to use it to get what she wanted: time with her daughter. That’s right, she said to herself, two can play at this game.

  Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she rose from the rickety old stool and turned to face him. There was a look of curiosity in his eyes, and she had no doubt it was in regard to what lay beneath her loose garments. It was so obvious what he wanted. She almost laughed at his trying to hide it by looking at her eyes. There had been others who had thought to use that trick against her, but she was never fooled.

  With exaggerated movement, she ambled over to where he stood against the wall. She sauntered her hips, making sure to turn them out with a noticeable thrust on each step. Men enjoyed being enticed. She caught his fleeting glance at her midsection and strutted even more.

  His expression was puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand what she was doing. Well, if he couldn’t tell, she wasn’t going to explain it to him. Maybe that was just the way his face naturally looked. Hard to tell with all that red hair covering his mouth and chin. She hated men’s hair, so rough against her skin. It would always leave her red and burning.

  She stopped in front of him. He was big, one of the biggest men she had ever seen. He towered over her. She had to crane her neck just to look into his eyes. Not that she wanted to. It was time to get what she had come for. Sylas had promised to let her spend time with Suri if she was able to get the prisoner to talk. Not that she actually believed a single word that came out of the fat inquisitor’s filthy mouth, but what choice did she have? It was the only hopeful possibility given her.

  She reached out with her hand and, pushing aside the tattered ruins of what remained of his blood-stained shirt, she laid her open palm against his bare chest. Despite his malnourished condition, he was muscular. In fact, the leanness of his body brought even greater definition to his contours. With his size, there was no doubt in her mind that had he wanted her, she could have done precious little to stop him. “Tell me more about your home,” she said as she worked her thumb back and forth against his stretched skin, rubbing gently across the remains of a previously healed laceration.

  His body twitched. But, it didn’t seem to be the usual sway of a man who wanted more. It was instead the tremble of someone who felt uncomfortable. She was impressed. This one was playing hard-to-get, feigning virtue to put her off her guard, but she was not so easily fooled. She had seen it all before. There was no depth to how low men would sink in order to get what they wanted from her.

  His big hand reached out and found hers. She knew it. That didn’t take as long as I’d expected. The sooner she could get this over with the sooner she—

  Wait, what’s this? Instead of taking her hand and pulling her to him, he had removed it from his chest and released it. What was he
playing at? He was taking his role a bit too seriously. She was starting to lose patience. She needed to spend time with her daughter. Taking a step back, she decided to wait him out.

  “My home is quite plain by most standards,” he said. “No lavish furnishings, no expensive coverings, I was never one to go for all the extra fluff, if you know what I mean?”

  She found herself nodding.

  “My house and smithy are in Cheapside,” he continued. “It’s farther away from the overlord’s estates, but closer to the water, which suits me just fine.” He had a concerned look on his face, probably embarrassed at having admitted to his low station. Most men liked to brag about possessions and abilities that far exceeded their reality. She never did understand how lying about one’s wealth would entice a woman into bed.

  “It’s alright,” she said, trying to comfort him. She stepped forward once again and placed her hand against his stomach. She playfully outlined the wave of his muscles with her finger. “I don’t care how much coin you have, I only care about you.” She figured that would win him. Men loved it when you told them that your feelings stemmed from the way they looked and not from the size of their purse.

  She stared into his eyes. She had to admit they were strong, and yet somehow soft. He reached down and laid his warm hands on her waist. Finally, she thought, here we go. But instead of the rough embrace she had expected, she found herself being lifted off the ground and moved backwards a pace or two.

  This was getting confusing. She had never had a man respond to her like this before. She glanced at her attire. Was it the dress? Did he not think she was attractive? Most men didn’t care what she looked like. Although once in the throes of passion, they always told her how beautiful she was.

  “Look, I’m not sure what you’re expecting,” he said, “but I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”

  She took a deep breath. This was getting more awkward by the moment. “I’m not expecting anything,” she lied. “I just wanted to hear more about your home. Did you have any family back there? A wife or maybe children?” Maybe he was already taken and that was why he shunned her advances. Although, there were plenty of men who didn’t let that stop them.

  He lowered his head. “No. I never married.”

  “Are your parents still alive? Did you have any brothers or sisters?”

  His eyes narrowed, but she continued to push. She needed the information. “How does your magic work?”

  “Why do you ask?” There was a slight edge to his voice that signaled warning.

  “Well, you’ve seen mine, I was just curious as to what your talent is? Does it hurt to use? What does it feel like? How often did you use it?” She could sense this wasn’t going quite as she had hoped. He simply wasn’t opening up to her. She couldn’t understand it.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked. His brows hung just above his eyes. She could tell he was getting suspicious. This wasn’t working. She had to go all in. It was her only chance to change his mind. She had to make him want her. It was all she could think to do to make him open up. Every man she had ever known had been willing to tell her anything she had wanted to hear as long as she made herself available to him.

  She started forward. Her hands quivered against the buttons on the front of her dingy top. Looking straight ahead, she kept her focus on his hands. She had no desire to look into his brown eyes and see what was reflected there. She was disgusted enough with, once again, having been forced into this, but the only way she could make it through was to keep her attention off of him and what he was going to do, and focus on Suri, on holding her in her arms, kissing her forehead, telling her how much she loved her.

  She had made it to her third button and was pulling open the front for him to see, when he took a quick step forward and pulled her hands aside before re-buttoning her top. She was all but trembling. She could feel tears burning at the sides of her eyes, desperate to fall, but she struggled to hold them in. She couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. Not to a man! Yet there was something different about this one. She stood there, unmoving, as he finished with her last button. After straightening her collar, he took a step back.

  “You don’t need to do this.”

  She kept her gaze on her bare toes as they peeked out from underneath her tattered skirt.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been placed in the middle of this,” he said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sylas was going to be furious with her for not getting him to talk.

  “Well, somehow I doubt it was your idea to come prostituting yourself to me for information. This has the fat one written all over it. Only he would get some sick pleasure out of hurting you to get to me.”

  She kept her head lowered. She tried to think of what she could say to get what she needed. There must be a way to make this work. He was different from the others, sure, but he was still just a man.

  “Look, I’m not saying you aren’t attractive. You’re a very pretty girl, but I was raised to respect a woman and never take advantage of her virtue. I would never want someone taking advantage of my sister like that, so I would never do the same.”

  Her head shot up. There it was, one of the answers she had been waiting for. He did have family—a sister. She wondered if he realized what he had just said or not. It didn’t appear so. She wondered if this would be enough to make Sylas allow her time with her daughter. She couldn’t help but stare into his coffee-colored eyes. For once, she didn’t see lust, she didn’t see desire, she didn’t see the look of a man who wanted to strip her naked and use her to fill his appetite. She saw concern, she saw remorse, she saw eyes swelled with empathy so strong that it turned her stomach at the thought of how she intended to betray him.

  She looked away. She couldn’t bear his kind gaze any longer.

  At the sound of the bolt and latch being released behind her, Rae scurried over to the entrance. The door swung partway and the guard with the big nose peeked inside. “Time to go,” he said, motioning toward the big man with the sad eyes.

  “Ferrin,” she said to herself, quietly, trying for the first time to use his name.

  “What, no questioning today?” Ferrin asked.

  She watched the guard walk over and place the iron cuffs back on Ferrin’s wrists. “Guess not.”

  “Hmm? I guess there’s a Creator after all.”

  The guard shook his head. “If there is, He doesn’t visit this place.”

  Not waiting around to see what would happen next, Rae spared a quick glance at the scruffy prisoner who happened to be staring directly at her, before slipping through the door and back into the main chamber. She moved as fast as her short legs would carry her in the direction of Sylas’s quarters.

  She had information to share.

  Chapter 52 | Ayrion

  AYRION STEPPED OUT of the High King’s study just behind Commander Tolin, feeling a bit weary at the possibility of a full-on engagement with Cylmar in the near future. He couldn’t understand what would be driving such a small kingdom to consider actions like this, which carried the potential for such catastrophic consequences.

  Cylmar wasn’t quite a third the size of Elondria, and even if they conscripted every able body to join ranks, they wouldn’t be much more than half the size of the Elondrian forces. It just didn’t make any sense. There had to be more going on than what they were seeing.

  After a lengthy discussion of the actions required in dealing with their neighbors, Ayrion made a point of bringing the king’s attention to the matter concerning the strange disappearances in the Warrens. He was surprised to find that word had already reached the king’s ears about the peculiar kidnappings.

  For the last month, the High King had heard testimony after testimony of strange hooded men taking people in the night. Concerned citizens had filled the throne room each week to relay the news in hopes of garnering the king’s assistance. Evidently, the kidnappings had not been confined to just the Warrens as Kira and Po ha
d thought, but had branched out from there, moving north and south along the waterways.

  The king agreed with Commander Tolin’s suggestion to allow a contingent of his lancers to accompany the city patrollers in flushing out the culprits even if it meant working with the Warren Clans to do so. Ayrion, on the other hand, had agreed to try reaching out to his contacts in the underground to see if they would be willing to accept the help offered. After assuring the king of his belief in the clans’ cooperation, Ayrion thanked the king for his assistance and, along with Commander Tolin, left Rhydan to his work.

  Ayrion had always been amazed at the lengths Rhydan would go to help the citizens of his kingdom. He had never heard of any other king willing to listen to the individual pleas of his people. They came from all across Aramoor to petition their requests. Some came just to pay their respects. “The stronger the ties with my people,” Ayrion had heard the king say on numerous occasions, “the stronger the kingdom will be.”

  More than that, Ayrion knew Rhydan was a good king. And unlike his predecessors, his benevolence was more than just show. It stemmed from a heart which truly cared. Ayrion also knew a great deal of that credit went to Queen Ellise. The pair of monarchs had been the best thing to happen to Elondria in some time, and the people knew it.

  One of the king’s first decrees after taking the throne was to make sure that his people had a safe and expedient way to travel. Rhydan not only worked to keep the roads maintained, but he posted continual patrols in order to force highwaymen to seek other venues by which to make their profit. With the roads being made accessible once again, the kingdom grew.

  Rhydan also gave back by cutting the previously established citizen tax by over half, allowing the people of Elondria more coin with which to buy and sell. Permitting the people to keep larger portions of their income encouraged a growth in commercial enterprise. People, who were at one time too fearful to strike out on their own because of a lack of means, began taking risks. Businesses sprouted like weeds all across Elondria, and the kingdom prospered because of it.