The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon)

by P. S. Power

  Timon just watched to see if it looked like they could break the chains that wrapped under the soft beds they were on. They wouldn't take those out, being made of magic, but the heavy metal seemed to stop them pretty well too.

  He finally held up one finger.

  "You're here to answer some questions for me. Not yet though. Now, I'm going to go and see to some things. My friend here is well armed and if anyone seems to be escaping, or even insults her too much, she has full right and duty to kill you. Don't try her. I picked her for a reason." Which was that she'd been at the right place when he needed a helper. He didn't mention that part.

  He walked out, as was the plan, since it was late enough to go to the Capital and see if Mark had managed to get anyone to come with him. If not... Well, Timon had a good idea of some other things that might work as far as creating pain went.

  It took clearing his mind totally to not worry about the three escaping and ruining everything. He flew as fast as he could, but it felt like the craft crawled through the night. He landed at the palace, expecting that at least Denno would be taken there. That turned out to be the correct reasoning, because mixed with the Royal Guard stood Petra, Brown and for some reason Smythe the Military Councilor.

  They all got in without asking any questions. Including the Royal Guards, six of them. It made for a full load of people, so he reconfigured the seats for it. Not all of them were giants after all. Once he took off Denno spoke softly, tapping a small case in his hands.

  "Ten doses. You asked for this... I don't know if you realize what it can really do. The pain is designed to be the very worse that a being can survive. Some don't, the raw pain causing their own body to attack itself." His voice did not sound happy about the request at all.

  Timon grunted once.

  "I know what it does first hand. Three days of it. That's why I asked for you to bring it."

  Sitting next to Brown, Petra grimaced. "I wasn't told what this was about. Who are we going to be... questioning?" There was hesitancy to her voice. It made sense, the woman not being evil or anything. No good person that had experienced torture wanted it for anyone else. Sometimes it might have to be done, but that didn't mean it was a good thing.

  He didn't turn, staring straight ahead instead.

  "Count Rodriguez and some of his guard. We're holding them in an isolated cottage. I don't want to be gone long. They can't be allowed to escape and if it starts to happen my person on the ground will kill them first."

  Petra changed then, her face hard suddenly.

  "You... have Will? I..." There was a deep shuddering breath, but no sobbing. "Thank you."

  He just flew. The rest of the people were silent the whole time and they were out of snacks. It felt slow again, but it wasn't. If anything the craft moved more quickly now than it had before. Not a lot, but enough that the clock said it was only just approaching one in the morning when they got in. He climbed out first, opened the door and called out, seeing Judith standing and looking stern, like she was supposed to. The others looked like they were in the correct places too.

  "It's Tim. I have the others. Plus a few, sent by friends." He wasn't going to be any more exacting than that himself, intending for the Royal Guards, Denno and Smythe to stay outside, but they all walked in, as if expected.

  Petra saw Judith and looked... Proud. She didn't say anything, but there was a single nod, as if the second she saw the girl it only made sense that she'd be there, holding the evil count.

  Smythe moved to step forward, to take control, but Timon held up his right hand, shaking his head, then held out his right hand to Denno, who gave him the curiously textured brown case. It took a second for him to work out the little clasp on it, made of the same material. Inside were ten needles, filled with the pain mixture, whatever it was. He took one, and remembered what the Larval had done, removing the sheath that covered the needle and holding it point up, depressed the little plunger until a tiny bit of liquid shot out.

  Then he walked to the bound Count and felt for the large vein on his neck, angling the thing just as had been done to him, knowing that had worked pretty well. A few seconds later he had the silver bit inside the man, who grunted in pain, then emptied the clear container that wasn't made of glass at all.

  "Now, this is going to hurt. In a few minutes you'll be in the worst pain you've ever felt. Then it will get worse than that. In an hour or so, I expect that you'll be begging for death. It won't come. No, the pain will just keep getting stronger, until it's all you know." He smiled as the man made a small moan, the first of the burning and searing pain hitting him.

  Then he held up the healing amulet Collette had given him.

  "In moments this can take that pain away, make you healthy and whole again. All you have to do to move past this first round of questioning is answer all our questions truthfully. Here, this will help. No use lying to us. Either suffer silently, or talk honestly." It took a bit to get one of the Truth amulets out, which he activated and held in his own hand, moving so the Count could see him clearly.

  "You know how this works? The glow that matches Smythe's robes stays clear as long as you tell the truth. Lie and a black line comes across it. I suggest you tell only the truth, since I'm going to kill you if you don't start working with us immediately. Right after I let you suffer agony that you cannot possibly imagine."

  The field didn't change at all. Smiling he set the cord of the amulet around the man's neck, so it wouldn't slip off as he writhed.

  That started a few minutes later the man gasping. Then Timon gestured at the Military Counselor.

  "If you will?"

  The questions came hard and fast, no answers coming at all, no matter what was said. Denno finally had to go outside, to sit in the Fast Craft, though the others all stayed. The large giantess started crying, a horrible weeping. Her hands looked ruined, but Timon used the healing amulet on her, fixing them in a few minutes.

  "Don't worry. If you aren't traitors you won't be harmed. If you know anything and wish to end this part of things for him, you can, by letting us know what it is. I can promise that if you do, you won't be harmed, or even put to death. Not even if you're guilty of treason. You might have to move to another land, but I can see to that." It was just meant to weaken the Count's resolve, and not a promise to him, but after the healing was done the large woman shook her head, looking at Petra.

  The Conserina didn't look back, ignoring her.

  "Save him... Please Petra? I know I have no right to ask, after what they did to you..."

  Petra gave her a hard look, her eyes wide.

  "That's right, you don't! You think I don't remember you breaking my arms and legs Merta? Or you Stile, pissing into the pit while you laughed? You're as responsible for all this as he is."

  For half a second Timon wondered if Petra was going to take her revenge on them then, possibly with fatal results, but she just ground her teeth, not moving.

  Timon did it instead, pulling another two needles. Everyone stared at him as if they couldn't believe what was happening. He didn't go through the speech he had before though. This time he just waited, holding the healing amulet up as they started to squirm. The Count started screaming a little later, so Timon held the amulet in front of his eyes, swinging it back and forth.

  "I can stop the pain, that agony within you. All you have to do is tell the truth. You can't win now. I know... why don't you start by telling us all about Count Wend?" He moved his head closer to the man, since that had freaked him out when Nora had done it. It seemed to work with this giant too. Good to know it wasn't just him. "That's right, we know far more than you think already. All you're doing now is protecting people that will be hanging soon anyway. All that pain, for people that would be willing to sell you out for a bit of gold and a pretty girl or two. Brave of you. Strong too. Also futile."

  It would have been a lot more powerful if everyone wasn't staring at him like he was the freak. Someone had to get the man to talk, didn'
t they? They needed to hurry too, or else this could take days. Maybe longer.

  "Brave and strong, suffering for people that don't deserve it. You're ready to tell us what we already know? To stop this?" The others started groaning already, probably realizing part of what the Count had been resisting already.

  It wasn't an instant thing by any means, but by true morning the man gasped out a plea for death. Timon held up the healing device again.

  "No. There is no escape that way. There's only one way. Answer the questions."

  There was a moan then, from the huge woman, the Count looked away, still in agony.

  "Fine, but... my people. They just followed my orders. You said that... You'd... see them safe? Does that stand?"

  Timon looked at Smythe, who gave a short nod, agreeing to the terms.

  "If they tell all they know freely. No reason not to, after you speak. Release them from their vows against that and order them to save themselves." It was clear that the man was trying to find a reason that wouldn't make him merely look weak, as if anyone there would care about that.

  "Fine."

  Smythe worked fast then, and inside an hour had the whole of the tale. At the half hour mark Petra asked Timon to release Stile from the pain, since peeing on her was an insult, but not one she couldn't forgive. It really worked fast, the man going quiet and looking better two minutes later.

  Merta was left in pain. That was fine with Tim. The Count was finally given respite as well and Petra sighed, waving at the huge woman too.

  The Military Councilor gave him a sad, grim look. "We need to get these people back to the Capital. We can finish the questioning there. Do you wish to take these two off to those foreign lands now, or might the bargain be satisfied after further questioning."

  Tim shrugged. He wasn't actually done with them all yet.

  "That second one. We have more to do. I'm afraid we can't fit everyone on the craft..."

  Petra shook her head.

  "I picked up mine from... someone, before I left for Austra, in case I needed to make an escape." She went out to see to that.

  Timon worked out what that meant, most likely. She'd been one of the people that had gone in and defeated Austra then. There had been just over thirty of them. That meant some kind of trick had taken place to get her without even a shield on. Like the one used on him? He still wasn't going to ask. There were hundreds of ways a lover or supposed friend could do it, if they were evil. He really didn't need to know which way was used in particular.

  The Royal Guard loaded the prisoners up, sticking them into three separate pens that Timon formed for them. Small things that left them sitting, hunched over. Smythe and two of them riding with him, everyone else going with Petra. From the looks on their collective faces it was a statement about him and his actions, not just a desire not to be in with the prisoners. At least one of them had soiled themselves after all. Given the pain levels, he wouldn't have been surprised if they all had.

  They flew back, the other craft following him, since they didn't know where they were overly and he did. The older Counselor sat beside him, not seeming worried about his actions at all. He looked down at his robes rather obviously and sighed.

  "The Truth amulet rather does match my favorite robes, don't they? What are the odds that Tor did that to honor me for my well known love of fact?" The man smiled, shaking his head. "Not too good, I fear. I tried to kill him once. It didn't work very well. Do you know why I did it however?"

  Timon had no clue at all, after a few seconds he shook his head, curious but figuring the man was setting up to tell him anyway.

  "I was afraid of him. He kept doing things that I just couldn't understand, so I thought the worst of him. I was wrong. He was a man wielding the forces of nature itself, making rivers in the sky to help those in need, defeating armies without harming them... I admit, I feared what would happen when he decided to turn on the rest of us. I still do, to an extent. I don't fear you however, do you know why that is, Countier Baker?"

  "Because I'm a child and don't hold that kind of power?" It made sense, but the older man snorted lightly.

  "Oh, no. It's because I understand you. I'm not fool enough to think you aren't powerful. You simply did what I would have, if our positions were reversed. Then, in the end you showed restraint when many wouldn't have. A brilliant thing, bribing the Count with the safety of his people like that. Very practical."

  After a few seconds he nodded and whispered to the man, so the prisoners in their totally closed cages couldn't hear him. Not that they would be able to anyway.

  "I'm not done yet." Oh, he was going to keep his word. They just wouldn't survive it.

  The man nodded genially, the Royal Guards in the back, both men, chuckling lightly.

  "We know that too. Like I said, we're more alike than not. Just remember, it can be too easy to give in to expediency and revenge. Hold to common sense as well." As lectures went it wasn't a long one, but the words seemed well meant.

  He nodded.

  "I'll do that. The world doesn't need more monsters. We have more than enough already."

  The rest of the trip was traveled in silence. They all had a lot to think about, since several Counts were part of the plotting, and Rodriguez didn't know them all. Count Wend... That name had meant a lot to the man however. It wasn't that the recluse was part of their plot, but rather that the Larval Assassins had taken over his estate. How Lara Gray had known that Tim didn't know. What he did get was that it was a trap. One meant for him.

  He'd been meant to go in and end up being captured or killed. It hadn't been a peace offering at all, but an attempt to get rid of him. A declaration of war. The others didn't get that part of things yet. Also of interest, Count Holder wasn't in on the plot at all. His family had been taken by the other nobles and he was being threatened with their deaths if he didn't do as told. Some of the King's biggest supporters were right there in the north, in Duchy Keene. By tying them up in a skirmish, it removed them from the playing field for a time.

  That had to mean that an attack would be coming soon. That would be a problem, since most of the Counts, except for Wend, would be coming to town in a few weeks, if they weren't coming in the next days for Lyn's wedding.

  On top of that, someone had corrupted at least one Royal Guard.

  "Did that man, the Royal Guard that tried to kill Count Lairdgren, was he ever available for anyone else to get to? Some remote detail or..." Timon shook his head, knowing that no one would answer him. One of the men in the back did however.

  "Four years with Prince Kedrin. That wasn't lost on us either. It's not proof. Not enough to question the King's brother like you did these others, if that's your thought."

  "Of course not. I was just working some things out. That isn't my business anyway." It really wasn't, he decided. He had a few other things to finish up, then he could get back to his real life. The first one was just making sure that Lyn and Dorgal had a good wedding. It was what he tried to think about as they landed outside the palace, the Royal Guard from the other craft moving out first, some standing back as the others surrounded his craft. He took it down as soon as they were ready, the prisoners landing after a three foot drop, with a thump. Their chains rattled too.

  In the few seconds they laid on the ground, stunned, they were swarmed and picked up, being dragged away faster than seemed reasonable for the large forms. A few seconds later they all stood alone. Smythe cleared them all, asking them if they were loyal to the King. Then Timon did the same to him, making the man smile tightly.

  "Good thinking. I am loyal to the King. King Richard Cordes. His family as well, and I am not working against them, save in a game of chess with Richard, that I intend fully to win." That worked well enough for Tim. They walked into the place as if expected, which was the case, early or not. Petra was standing next to Judith and after a few seconds of walking they both ended up standing next to him, one on either side.

  Guards.

 
For the life of him he couldn't tell at first if they meant to keep him from running off or were trying to protect him from something. It wasn't until they got to the King and Queen that he understood it was really both. The very first words out of the ruler's mouth shocked him more than a little.

  "We ask, no, we beg you, stay your hand against the Larval for now. A force is being put together to remove them, but if you go in first, we won't have time to bring all our forces together. It's within your rights to strike at them, but I can only request that you allow my much larger army to handle this." He stared at Judith for a few seconds, then smiled, as if recognizing her. Petra as well, but she was a known person to him.

  The Queen, Constance, looked at him, very worried for some reason.

  "Are you well? Your ordeal, and then this latest trial..." What she wanted from him he honestly couldn't tell.

  Then he got it. She wanted to protect him, but she wasn't certain from what herself.

  "That sounds fine to me. We should stop the Larval, but I don't care how it's done. Why would I? It's not my job to go and fight an army of killers. That's why we have an army." It was a little rude of him to say it that way, but he was tired. He shook his head, making himself smile. "Which was your point. Not trying to snap at you. I just have an awful headache."

  Petra nodded, her face grim.

  "Hours of combat rage will do that. It was off and on, but impressive. Will and the others had to know they were going to die at any moment. I almost missed it, until Denno left. He could hardly stand from the aura you were casting."

  That got some coffee brought in, no one even having to suggest it. He was told to drink it all by Richard. It was cool enough, so he slugged it back and poured another from the silver pot, repeating the process, not bothering to grimace. It was a little bitter, but that just didn't mean as much to him anymore as it did even a week before.

  Smythe started talking then, listing the five Counts and Countesses they knew of that had been named. That might be all of them, or half. Or any percentage really. That didn't make sense most people actually liking the King, so it probably was a smaller number, rather than a larger one. There were some others involved as well, including Baron Fell. The one that had so badly wanted his ice delivered that he'd paid in silver for it.