Unbroken Chain

Home > Other > Unbroken Chain > Page 18
Unbroken Chain Page 18

by Jaleigh Johnson


  Chanoch’s jaw tightened. Ashok held his breath, waiting for the young one to utter the wrong words. If Chanoch lost control with Tempus’s name on his lips, Ashok thought Vedoran might strike the young one down.

  Chanoch put a hand on the hilt of his greatsword. A tense breath passed, but then, with a visible effort, Chanoch released his weapon and stepped back, yielding to Vedoran’s authority.

  “Choose a tunnel, Ashok. We’re moving on,” Vedoran said, but his gaze never left Chanoch. Skagi and Cree said nothing, but Ashok noticed their hands stayed close to their own weapons.

  Ashok considered the passages. “Left,” he said, after pretending to deliberate for a breath or two.

  “I can’t hear the voices anymore.” Vedoran said. “Why left this time?”

  Ashok grappled for an excuse. “This tunnel appears to stay wide for a greater distance,” he improvised. “More room to fight, should it be necessary.”

  Vedoran examined both ways in silence. “I see no difference,” he said. “We’ll have to split up, check them both.”

  “Is that wise?” Ashok said sharply.

  A mistake. Vedoran had already had his authority challenged once. “Am I leader of this expedition or is Ashok, chosen of Tempus?” he demanded.

  Ashok bowed his head. “Respectfully, if we split up, we may become more easily lost,” he said.

  “Not if you’re able to draw a decent map,” Vedoran said. He lowered his voice so that only Ashok heard him. “You know how to chart an enemy’s defenses, don’t you? You made lovely pictures of Ikemmu when you first arrived. Don’t you remember sitting alone in your little hut, where you thought no one could see?”

  “You’ve been watching me closely,” Ashok said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m surprised. You, who hate to be controlled, keeping such a stranglehold on someone else’s freedom.” He raised his voice so the others could hear. “You’re right, Vedoran,” he said. “Speed and efficiency are the best way. We need to split up.”

  Vedoran nodded. “I thought you’d see it that way. Skagi?”

  “Yes, Vedoran?” Skagi said promptly.

  “You’ll go with Ashok down the left tunnel. Let him map the way. The rest of you come with me to the right. Meet back here with what we find.”

  Vedoran and the others moved off down the tunnel, and Ashok stood alone with Skagi. He clapped Ashok on the shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Vedoran’s wound himself into a frenzy to make this mission good.”

  “I’ll be happy enough if he doesn’t get us all killed,” Ashok said.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  ASHOK AND SKAGI STARTED DOWN THE TUNNEL, AND AFTER A distance encountered another intersection, then another beyond.

  Skagi cursed. “Now what? We report back?” he said, sounding disappointed.

  Ashok came to a silent decision. It was a risk, but if he didn’t act now, either dissension in the ranks or his enclave would kill them all.

  “Follow me,” he said and took the tunnel to the right off the second intersection. He moved fast. Skagi had to trot to keep up with him.

  “Where’re we going?” Skagi said.

  Ashok raised a hand for him to be silent. He listened for signs of anyone coming from the intersection behind them, but he heard nothing.

  “Keep moving,” he said, and continued on down a straight, narrow passage that would take them past the food preparation area. The animal pens were just beyond that.

  “Godsdamnit, Ashok, you’re going to get us lost with your guessing,” Skagi whispered.

  Ashok hesitated at the next intersection. Skagi was not a subtle warrior, by any means, but he wasn’t stupid either. Sooner or later he would start to suspect that Ashok knew exactly where they were going.

  Then, the answer came. It was carried on the wind.

  “Do you smell that?” Ashok said.

  Skagi sniffed the air. “Blood,” he said.

  “Someone’s been fighting here recently,” Ashok said. “Maybe the captives are striking back?”

  Skagi grinned and drew his falchion. “Maybe they’d like some aid?” he said.

  “We should expect guards,” Ashok said, and Skagi nodded eagerly.

  They moved ahead, and the smell of blood and rotting meat grew more intense as they passed the food preparation rooms. Ashok stopped at an intersection and risked a quick glance around the corner.

  The door to the slaughter chamber was barred, as it never had been when they kept animals in there. Ashok’s heart pounded. There was hope after all that the captives were still alive.

  Two guards stood at the door. They carried a mace and an axe, and there were bloodstains on their armor. Ashok knew he wouldn’t get away with simply knocking those guards out. He’d made his choice, and he had to live with it.

  “Quick and silent,” he whispered to Skagi.

  Skagi nodded, and together they charged around the corner.

  The guards saw them and were so shocked they froze with their weapons against their chests. Ashok whipped his chain around the neck of the one with the mace. He pulled it tight, choking off the guard’s breath and severing the throat vein in one motion. The shadar-kai gargled on his own blood and slid down the wall.

  Skagi hit the other guard in the flank with his blade, but the weapon passed through empty air. The guard teleported a few feet away and reappeared at the mouth of the passage where Skagi and Ashok had entered. She ran down the tunnel, her insubstantial form wavering in and out of the torchlight.

  “I’ll get her,” Skagi said. “You get the captives out.”

  “Wait!” Ashok cried, but Skagi took off before Ashok could stop him.

  Ashok went to the door and yanked up the bar sealing it shut. He listened for a breath and then opened it.

  Inside the slaughter chamber, the stench was overpowering. Had his mask not blunted the smell, Ashok would have retched. Blood, waste, and an underlying air of decay filled the room.

  From the doorway there was a short stair leading down into a roughly circular chamber. A second door on the opposite side of the room led to more guard areas as well as an underground river. Along the left-hand wall were dozens of thick-barred iron cages of various sizes, some stacked on top of each other. Within the smaller ones, coneys, foxes, and spindle-legged deer crouched, watching Ashok with large eyes. Ravens and crows let out deep-throated caws from the higher cages, and feathers fell in a black rain.

  To Ashok’s right, two iron bars were suspended lengthwise by chains from the ceiling. From those dangled blood-stained leather straps cinched tight enough to hold an animal’s front and hindquarters. Beneath the bars someone had placed a long trough to catch the blood and organs as they were removed.

  Two of the leather straps were not in use. They dangled free and were half-shredded as if from the claws of a struggling animal. The others were cinched tight around the wrists of a naked shadar-kai man.

  There were no guards in the room. Ashok secured the door behind him and went cautiously down the stairs. He approached the captive but could already see the man was dead, and thanked the gods for that small mercy.

  Ashok raised his hand to press the mask more fully against his face. The man’s body dangled limply from the straps, his bare feet brushing the inside of the trough. His toes had been removed and lay in a pile of blood and urine at the bottom. His genitals had been cut off as well.

  The man’s flesh had been split from his navel to his breastbone. The shredded halves had been peeled back, exposing his insides to the air. Ashok did not spend time examining the crawling movement he could see from the open cavity.

  The captive’s face was shockingly peaceful, his head bent forward, his chin against his chest, his eyes closed. His shaved head bore several open wounds where it looked as if his captors had carved out the tattoos from his flesh. There was the rough imprint of a sword just above his left ear.

  “Tempus take your servant. Give him re
st.” Ashok murmured the prayer without considering what he said. “He’s suffered enough.”

  He heard a sound then from one of the cages. Ashok spun, his dagger ready in his hand, but there was no movement and no other sound, only the animals watching him from behind the bars.

  He moved along the row of cages, releasing the catches to let the animals run free in the room. Ashok wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it—the sounds the animals made could alert someone outside the room. But something in their eyes compelled him, or maybe it was just the sight of the dead shadar-kai. There was a flurry of wings and clumsy shuffling as the beasts, too long confined, tried to learn to walk again.

  At the end of the row, in the largest cage, Ashok found the remaining Ikemmu captives.

  He released the latch—the cage wasn’t even locked—and stepped inside. The low top forced him to stoop, but he could still stand on his feet. Ashok clutched his dagger reflexively against his chest.

  There were five of them left, counting the man outside. The naked corpse of a woman near the cage door had been mutilated in much the same way as the man had been. Her fingernails were split and broken, or worn down to the bloody quick where she’d fought the straps.

  At the back of the cage, the bodies of a man and woman had been propped up in a half-sitting position, their arms and necks tied with chains looped around the cage bars. They sat with legs splayed and wore sweat-stained tunics but no breeches.

  Ashok crouched to examine them. There were no visible signs of mutilation, until he saw the dried bloodstains between their legs.

  Overcome at last, he staggered away on his knees until his back hit the cage wall. The force knocked the breath from his lungs. Ashok put his head between his knees and breathed through his mouth. The smell clung to his clothes, his hair. He would never be rid of this vileness.

  When he’d gotten his breathing under control, Ashok thought he heard another sound. He looked up and stifled a cry.

  The man had his eyes open and was looking at Ashok.

  Ashok couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d assumed they were all dead. How could any of them be alive in such a charnel house? They were so still that even the man, staring at him, looked like a corpse with a faint light in its eyes.

  Another woman lay a few feet away on her side, her back to Ashok. He couldn’t tell if she breathed. She’d wrapped her arms around the cage bars and pulled herself as close to the wall as possible.

  Swallowing, Ashok went over to the man and began working the chains at his neck. The man’s eyes tracked what Ashok was doing, but otherwise he remained completely motionless, with no expression on his face.

  Ashok got the chain loose enough to slip over the man’s head. Without the tension to support it, the man’s head lolled forward. Ashok caught it, and gently pushed the man back to rest against the bars. Then he went to work on his hands.

  When Ashok had finished, he went to free the woman. As he worked the chain at her neck, he listened for a heartbeat, for breath. He heard nothing. She was gone.

  Ashok laid his dagger aside and supported her weight as the chains fell free. He laid her body down on one side like the other woman. He wanted to give her some semblance of dignity. As he did that he spoke to the man.

  “Can you walk?” he asked. “We don’t have much time.”

  Ashok reached back for his dagger, but it wasn’t where he’d left it. He looked up and saw the man holding the weapon in both hands. He was so weak he could barely raise the blade above chest level to brandish it. His hands trembled, but his expression remained detached. He might as well have been holding an apple for all he knew what to do with the weapon.

  Ashok raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m from Ikemmu.”

  Nothing. Not a flicker of recognition.

  “We were sent by Uwan—by Tempus—to rescue you,” Ashok said. “Do you remember Uwan?”

  “U-wan.” The man’s lips came together clumsily to form the word. His voice was a shredded whisper. Ashok could see faint bruises on his throat where he’d been choked.

  “That’s right,” Ashok said. “Uwan wouldn’t stop until he found you. I’ve come to bring you home.”

  “Home,” said the man. He sighed and let the dagger rest in his lap, running his fingers over the hilt. “Tempus be praised.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Ashok said. “If you can walk, I need you to check your companion,” he pointed to the other woman, “to see if she lives. I’ll be right outside.”

  He was going to take the other body down and conceal it behind the trough so his companion wouldn’t have to see it. He headed for the door of the cage, but stopped when he heard a strangled gurgle.

  Ashok spun around. Horror washed through him.

  The man fell back against the cage bars, his body twitching. He’d stabbed himself in the chest with Ashok’s dagger. The hilt was held between his two hands, and an expression of utter peace suffused his features. His aim had been true. The life went out of the man’s eyes as the blade penetrated and stopped his heart.

  At that moment, the door at the top of the stairs opened, and Skagi entered the room. Ashok barely registered the warrior’s presence. He was trapped in the cage, unable to look away from the dead man’s peaceful countenance.

  “Tempus be merciful!” Skagi said. He saw Ashok in the cage and ran over to him. “What happened here?” he demanded in a raw voice.

  Ashok couldn’t find the words. He just shook his head. He was looking to the other woman, but all the strength had gone out of his body. He didn’t want to look, was terrified to see any more of the brutal work of his enclave.

  “Ashok? Ashok!” Skagi said, shaking his arm.

  Ashok slowly came back to himself. “Where are the others?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Skagi said. “I killed the guard and came straight back. She had time to yell up and down the caves before I took her, so we can expect company soon.”

  “Go find the others,” Ashok said. “Tell them … what you saw.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Ashok said. “We’ll have to clear a path out of here.”

  Skagi nodded and backed out of the cage. Ashok could see the relief on his face when he left the torture chamber.

  Steeling himself, Ashok went to the other woman. He reached out to touch her shoulder, and several things happened at once.

  The crows flying around the room cawed loudly, and the woman rolled onto her back in one violent motion. Her hands clawed at Ashok’s face. She caught his cheek and raked with her blunt, ruined nails. Ashok felt the fire lines across his face and wet blood drip down his neck.

  He hurled himself back, his hands up in defense, but the woman did not pursue him. Ashok retreated against the opposite wall of the cage and stayed there.

  Facing him on her side, the woman brought her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. The bones of her skeleton shone clearly through her taut flesh. Ashok couldn’t imagine when she’d last been fed. Blood-matted hair fell in uneven chunks across her face. She put her head down, as if trying to make her body as small as possible.

  Ashok tried to get a look at her eyes, but he couldn’t see through the curtain of her hair. Staying crouched he came toward her a step and stopped to gauge her reaction. She didn’t move, only curled tighter into her protective ball.

  “Ilvani?” Ashok said, with a knowledge he didn’t at first comprehend. Then he saw it, in the shape of her face, an echo of Natan’s countenance. Ilvani had survived, despite all the horrors she’d experienced.

  She had survived. And if it killed him, Ashok would see her returned to Ikemmu.

  Ashok pulled the mask down so Ilvani could see his face. He reached up and fumbled with the catch of his cloak. He pulled the garment off and took another crouching step forward. He spread the cloak out on the ground between them like a buffer, then he backed away until he was against
the opposite bars again.

  He waited, his hands between his knees, to see what she would do.

  He could feel time slipping away, precious breaths they needed to get out of the caves before the enclave realized what was happening and sealed off all the escape routes, before they ran them all down and hung them from the straps over the slaughter trough.

  His breath tight in his chest, Ashok forced himself to wait, patiently, to make no reaction when she stretched out one hand, scraping it across the floor until she could grasp a corner of the cloak with her fingers.

  She pulled the garment toward herself, threading it through her hands as if through the eye of a needle. She covered her body and curled into herself, pulling the cloak over her head. Ashok’s heart wrenched in his chest.

  “Ilvani,” he said brokenly, “can you hear me?”

  He waited, not really expecting an answer. More breaths ticked by, and finally, no more than a whisper among the bird cries and animal stirrings, she answered.

  “I hear.”

  “My name is—”

  “Ashok,” Ilvani said, cutting him off. Her voice was quiet, but strong. “I hear your name on the wind.”

  “You knew I was coming?” Ashok said.

  Beneath his cloak, Ilvani moved, but she did not uncover herself. “The wind whispered your name,” she said. “I tried to keep it, but they took all my boxes away.” She sounded sad, her voice growing fainter as she spoke.

  “That’s all right,” Ashok said. “I’m here now. I’ve come to take you out of here. Back to Ikemmu. Back to Natan.”

  Ilvani sighed. Ashok could see the cloak moving with her breath. “I remember him,” she said. “I walked with him in dreams. So many beautiful, twisted faces. I told him not to be unhappy.”

  “You’ll see him again,” Ashok said. “But first, will you look at my face?”

  Silence, and a tremor through the cloak. But a breath later, her hand emerged, long, delicate fingers curled into claws still stained with his blood. She pulled the cloak down so he could see her face.

 

‹ Prev