by Unknown
“Try not to forget that you’re not alone in there. They’ll follow your lead. They want only to support you.”
She tried to force a smile but it fell short. Her hand placed over his in thanks before she walked on into the darkness.
“Ary, what’s going on?” She looked exhausted as she stood clutching her cloak about her shoulders. She wasn’t dressed for the cold as she’d donned only her cloak when Allos had come to find her. She was still dressed in the warm nightgown that Mayla had given her when they’d first arrived.
Elizabeth looked back and forth between her sister and Allos. He hadn’t told her why he’d had to wake her before the dawn. It wasn’t his place. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” Allos eyed Aryaunna intently and looked sorry as he looked back to Elizabeth whilst walking out. The darkness swallowed him up, and the two sisters were left alone.
“Ary?” Elizabeth’s brows rose expectantly. It was taking all her energy to look angry rather than worried.
“Do you know a young man named Derric Bayford?” Aryaunna stood against the wall with her arms folded across her body. This room was colder than the arena by at least ten degrees. Elizabeth looked taken back, and intensely uncomfortable. “Do you know him, Elizabeth?” Aryaunna wanted to be tender, but after what she’d just had to do she just didn’t have it in her.
“He was a servant at the Church,” her voice was frosted with a stirring anger. “What is this about?”
“He’s here… And he says he’s come for us. Because…” It took her a moment to gather the words that she didn’t want to say, afraid of what many different things they could mean.
“Ary?” her sister questioned, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes were wide with fear and her mouth tight with anger.
“He says he’s your lover. That he loves you and he knew we were in danger. He was found in the wood, calling out for us. He doesn’t know me though. Not by my face that is.” Aryaunna stared at her feet. Her boots hadn’t yet been laced.
Elizabeth crumpled down against a small table top. Compelled to comfort her, Aryaunna walked to her sister and placed a hand on her shoulder. “He was Bishop Dupont’s man servant.”
The blood seeped out of Aryaunna’s face. Looking down at her hand on her shoulder she saw a smear of blood that did not belong to her. Her fist clinched and she dropped it to her side. “What did he do to you?” her voice was so soft it was amazing Elizabeth had even heard it.
Elizabeth turned her head away, holding herself tighter. “You know what he did. You know what they both did,” she whispered. Fear and shame splashed hot tears down her cheeks. “The chamber shackles.”
Aryaunna’s shaking hands touched to the crown of her sister’s head as she leaned over and kissed her crimson tangles. “Wait here.”
Aryaunna ran out before Elizabeth could even gather her thoughts.
She ran right into Allos’ chest and bounced back. He caught her and held a finger up over her mouth. Guiding her to a pitch black corner in the room he bowed his head close to hers. “Did she know him?” Aryaunna nodded, unable to find the words. “What did she say about him saying he loved her?” She shook her head, too angry to trust her voice. The rage was building inside of her like she’d never felt before. “Why won’t you tell me?” he was confused by her reaction.
It took a moment for him to realize she was shaking. He started to speak but she cut him off, “You must go to my sister. Take her away from here and stay with her. Please, promise me,” her words were a venomous hiss. She couldn’t give Allos orders. She liked him too much as a friend. But she needed this. She needed this like a drowning man needed air. “Do this for me, Allos. I beg of you.” Her burning hot hand clutched his arm as she looked to where she knew she would meet his eyes. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel him looking hard at her.
“Swear to me you will explain this.”
Hesitantly she nodded. “I swear.”
“Call to Reign, Aryaunna. He is always near.” His large hand, tightened into a fist, pressed against her breast bone high on her chest. “If I cannot help you through this, then you must call to him. The Drow are your people, they would follow you anywhere. But where you’re going, I think you need more. You need a friend.”
It wasn’t until he went to pull away that she realized she was still holding onto his arm. He was right. She needed a friend. Allos left her alone in the darkened space, where no light seemed to dare to go. Closing her eyes she sought for his face. The Dragon. Her friend. Reign. I need you, she thought desperately, wishing more than anything that he was there.
Aryaunna stayed there in the dark, until she saw the lump of figures enter the room. Standing in the door, light cast over them from the burning sconce. Allos held Elizabeth in one arm, close to his body as he ushered her safely through the dark.
Aryaunna watched them stop at the stares. Allos was nearly carrying her. The shock of Derric finding her here was debilitating. Though they could claim nothing as their own, coming to the Hollow had given Aryaunna and Elizabeth one thing they’d not had since they’d been young children. Safety. They’d been safe in the Hollow before Derric had come and destroyed that hope. Elizabeth had been as happy as Aryaunna had ever seen her. In minutes, Aryaunna had taken that from her and rendered her to an empty vessel.
It was something she would never forgive herself for.
Allos wrapped his arms around her and guided her securely up the stairs. Aryauna listened to them until she could no longer discern their footsteps. When she was alone, truly alone, her eyes closed and she asked Reign to help her through this night. She asked for his strength. Upon opening her eyes, she felt no pain in her weary body.
Calmly she walked from the dark towards the arena.
The Drow had done nothing more than she asked. A thick braided rope was tied around Derric’s head, parting his lips and holding his jaw apart. A sufficient, and likely very irritating, gag. Effective. She nodded to Raif in approval. The last gag he’d used had been a strip of cloth. Not nearly as effective.
Slowly she walked up around Derric. Her hand lay onto his shoulder from behind as she approached, making him nearly jump out of his skin. Luckily the ropes kept him in it. For the time being anyways.
Her touch was almost sweet as she walked around in front of him. “Pleasure to see you again, Derric.”
Gurgling his anger, he had to gasp to catch his ragged breath. His nose touched his cheek now. Breathing around the thick rope must’ve been difficult. “You know, I almost feel insulted. You don’t look nearly as pleased as I am.” Her eyes sparkled with absolute rage. It was almost disturbing the amount of calm she felt.
The tension in the room grew palpable. Raif took a careful step closer as Aryaunna sat down on Derric’s lap. His eyes were wide, white visible around his otherwise dark orbs. It was no surprise that he was frightened of her. Yet he had no idea just how frightened he should be. “You know, it is terribly rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself.” Her smile was slow, some would say seductive. “My name is Aryaunna.” She let it sink in, and as it did she watched. A tear ran down his cheek. Derric knew he would not survive this night.
“Oh, am I mistaken? Do you know me, Derric? Truly?” her words were venom and malice. Her pretenses fell away completely and she stood. “The rest of you should leave.” The humor and taunt had left her tone. “I’m not asking,” she said as calmly as she could to them. She would not lose her self-control in front of the few people in the world she respected.
Raif nodded to his three other companions and motioned for the door. He took up the tail end and followed behind them, though never took his eyes off Aryaunna. A heavy wooden door creaked open, and three Drow left the room. Raif shut it just behind them and dropped the heavy wooden beam from the side wall down into the bars to secure it. He turned his back to the door and locked eyes with Aryaunna. His fist held over his chest. She was never truly in the dark… He bowed his head to her, and she returned the gesture. He w
ouldn’t leave her.
Her hand grabbed Derric’s hair in her fist, shoving his neck backward against the brace of the straight-back chair. In her other hand suddenly was her sword, bringing the blade for him to see. “Do not move,” she ordered him, as the flat of her sword slid against his neck and twisted. Her sharp blade was held hard against the rope that gagged him. She was careful enough not to gouge out his flesh. The rope frayed and soon snapped, falling to the floor.
She laid the tip of her sword against his cheek, aimed up for his eye. “There will be no second chances now, Derric.” She looked into his eyes as she hovered above him. “This is going to hurt,” she warned with complete lack of affliction. She looked to Raif and nodded down to Derric.
In a second’s time, Raif held his head tightly in his hands to keep him still. The hand in his hair released and grabbed ahold of his nose, forcefully snapping it back to its rightful place on his face.
He cried and groaned out in agony. She sneered in disgust. He didn’t know agony and had no right to cry out. The hand holding the hilt of her blade trembled. Knowing how hard her control was going to be to hang onto, she swung it and sheathed it in one smooth motion.
Raif released him and stepped back, waiting silently until he was needed.
“You will tell me everything I want to know. And for every answer I don’t get in the time that I want it I will inflict you a great deal of pain. Is this clear?” Derric looked up at her, snot and blood drizzling down his mouth and chin as tears stained his cheeks. She grabbed hold of one of his fingers and began to bend it back until he began to nod furiously. “Good.” She released.
“Someone sent you here.” He looked at her and then the floor. His lips were trembling. He didn’t want to agree, but when she took a step forward he nodded again. “Who?”
“D-Dupont,” he stuttered.
Her stomach churned with nausea. “Why?” she forced herself to ask, though she was very afraid she knew.
“You went missing… You and Elizabeth. A prior was dead.” He gave Aryaunna a look, though pitiful as it was, clearly said she had to be stupid not to get it. She did. But she had to hear it.
“You’re Dupont’s man-whore,” she stated as if this might be a question. He said nothing, but didn’t hide his glare. “No reason in denying it, Derric. I know what you’ve done.” It impressed her how easily she said it. Having Raif nearby was very helpful, in more ways than she could’ve imagined. Or maybe it was something else. Something inside of her had felt stronger since she’d stepped through the arena door this time-As if she had been given the strength she lacked.
“Tell me why Dupont thought it would be useful to send you… And here of all places. Why did he send you to the wood?” His jaw clamped tightly. Before he knew what was happening, she had grabbed the index finger of his left hand and snapped it back. “Why, Derric?”
His body twitched and twisted hard against the ropes in his chair, not trying to escape, but caused by spams of pain. He screamed and sobbed but in his delay she broke another. “Next time I cut one off,” she warned in a deadly calm.
“The Church has no record of you! He needed proof, not hearsay!” Now that was interesting.
“But why you?” His bottom lip quivered, for fear what she would do to him when he confessed. Another finger, this time on his right hand.
“Because,” he choked on a sob and the blood from his nose alike. “I’m expendable. If something happened to me, no one would miss me.”
“Good boy.” She slapped his cheek lazily, as if he was a dog that had finally done a trick properly. “And the woodland, why so close to the Hollow? There’s other villages around Kenan, more plausible choices. Even the Pagans past Birsheer. You were found with no food, no water. You haven’t come far, and you weren’t planning to travel. Don’t try to lie.”
He nodded. Aryaunna was right, but he needed a minute to gather himself. The pain was becoming mind-numbing. “A woman came to Kenan.” He took a ragged breath. “She spoke of a prophecy. The Guardians return, by way of an Emissary. The child of a witch. She claimed it would be a woman, a young woman that had been wronged by the Church.”
Raif shifted. He was listening.
Aryaunna walked closer to Derric, but his head was hanging down. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She grabbed his hair in her hand and jerked his head up so he would be forced to see her. She waited a moment, when he didn’t respond right away she grabbed one of his thumbs. “The prophecy said she would find the last Dragon. Dupont says the last Dragon was cursed by the Magistrate. If the prophecy was true, and you are their Emissary and had gone to find the last Dragon, you’d have had to come here first.”
“I’ve been here for months. Why now?” Her eyes were narrow as she thought hard on this.
“The woman just came to the village a few days ago. The Church hadn’t found out about her until last night. They’re going to burn her two days hence. Dupont was hoping I would bring you back, or Elizabeth.” He bit his lip and looked away from Aryaunna. When he said her name he couldn’t stand to look at her. A sick twisted part of his heart actually did care for Elizabeth.
“I knew the legends of the Hollow,” he continued without prompt. “I never would have found you just wandering, so I began to call out. I knew if you were really here, someone would find me.”
She released him and stepped back, turning away from him, but not out of her line of sight entirely. “Raif… Go get Allos. Now.” He was at the door and lifting the brace at a moment’s notice.
She gave him a moment, until she knew he’d have made it to the surface. Slowly she turned back to Derric. His head was hung forward. “Just do it,” he whispered, looking up to her with a plea of desperation in his eyes.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Her right hand took hold of the hilt at her left, and pulled it carefully from the sheath.
“There is nothing else that I have to tell you. Dupont isn’t foolish enough to tell me anything. What I know is whispered amongst the Sisters and servants.” She stepped forward. In her left hand she grabbed hold of his hair. His eyes closed, and a look of relief washed over him. Her blade was merciful as it connected quick and forcefully against his throat, pulling back in one swift movement. Blood poured down his neck, soaking his clothes in moments as it seeped from the wound.
She wiped the blood off her sword on her pants. Her hands were shaking now. It had to be done. He’d helped destroy a part of her sister’s heart, her life even. He’d done nothing to help her when Elizabeth had been shackled to a floor in Dupont’s room for eighteen days. Eighteen days of the worst hell imaginable. It had been weeks after that before Elizabeth could even bring herself to speak again, even to Aryaunna. She would have done it again if he’d been alive in that chair in front of her still.
Derric had been the first man she’d ever intentionally killed. The first man she’d ever intentionally hurt. She’d tortured him for information. She tried to sheath the sword but it fell to the floor. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t even pick it up from the ground.
Tears streaked down her face. She’d tortured and killed a man and hadn’t even thought twice about it. What sort of monster was she, she wondered?
Drowning in her own self-realized horror, she hadn’t heard Allos enter the room. She’d looked down at her hands. Even in the dim glow of the fires she saw the blood on her hands. How had it gotten there? Sickened by it she started wiping her hands against her clothes, gasping for air as she tried to clean herself of his blood, of his death.
“Ary, Ary, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Allos grabbed hold of her and turned her away from the corpse. “You’re all right,” he said again, trying to get her to focus on him. “You did what you had to do.”
She was starting to hyperventilate. “Get me out of here,” she begged between gasps.
Kneeling down he grabbed her sword, keeping one hand on her arm as if he needed to keep her in place. Standing, he pulled her
in under his arm and walked her swiftly out the door.
As soon as she was outside the arena she stopped and braced her hands on her knees as she bent over. “I’m all right, just give me a minute,” she assured him.
His hand squeezed her shoulder firmly and let her go. He stood back behind her so as not to make her feel smothered. In a moment she stood up, took in a deep breath and let it out in a gust. “You don’t have to worry. I don’t have time for a meltdown.” She nodded to the open door where a dim light flickered just beyond. The room they’d been in before.
When they’d entered, he shut the door and took up the small torch, lighting three others, one for each wall, before returning the torch to the security of the wall sconce. The room wasn’t as small as she’d originally thought. The table was sizable, long and solid oak, beautifully made. It had chairs much like the one Derric’s body was tied to surrounding it. Pulling out a chair she plopped down into it. He set her sword down on the table, hilt near her, before he sat beside her.
She told him everything. So much of everything that she’d wished she could take a good deal of it back. Without meaning to, she’d told Allos some of the many horrors that had plagued her and her sister. She told him about the shackles on the floors in the bed chambers. Her own encounters with them and Elizabeth’s many more, and how Derric had been a part of it all for Elizabeth. She had no right to say this to him, and she said so, apologizing profusely when she caught up with her own tongue.
She told him everything that he’d confessed. Even confessing her own shock that she’d tortured a man and cut his throat without mercy. “Not without mercy,” Allos interrupted.
Her brow rose in question. “You said yourself that you could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d seen his own terrors. He’d become a monster, yes, because of a monster. It is a bitter truth, but you will become all the wiser to it soon. Death can be a great mercy when none other lies in wait.”