by C S Vass
Fiona leaned back in the chair. Brandon’s temper had gotten away from him and he was huffing in his seat. “You know you’d get the information only after you bring Rodrick to me,” Fiona said.
“I assure you, we can arrange a proper trade that will be mutually beneficial and secure. After all, we have more men. We can restrain Rodrick but if you fail to deliver on your part of the bargain, we can just as easily let him go, maybe with a large shipment of gold of his own to ensure that he holds no grudges against us.”
Fiona snorted. “I have no reason to believe it could ever come to that. Rodrick has evaded capture from multiple forces for years, including the Tellosian Empire. Why would I expect that the Forgotten could deliver when the most powerful dynasty in the world could not?”
Brandon had revealed several personalities and faces that night, but it was the look he then gave her that truly frightened Fiona.
Eyes narrowed into a malicious gaze he simply rose from his chair and said, “Follow me.” With little other choice Fiona did just that.
They walked down a long dark hallway, lit every twenty paces or so by small white candles in the blackness. Eventually they came across a large wooden door with heavy wrought-iron engraved into its surface and several massive locks sealing it tight.
“If you think that you can scare me into submission I suggest you reexamine your tactics,” Fiona grunted.
Brandon laughed as he started to undo the locks. “In my line of work there is a time to intimidate and a time to impress. Despite your suspicions I aim to make an arrangement that will leave both of us satisfied. But we are missing a key element to make that happen.”
“Oh?”
“Trust,” Brandon said as the last lock fell and the large door swung open with a creak that echoed down the hallway. “It is only natural that you should demand results. So see for yourself. I’m sure you’ll be pleased.”
Fiona stepped into the room and gasped.
* * *
“No need to thank me,” Brandon said icily. “He brought this on himself, the arrogant fool.”
Chained to the wall in front of her was Kevin Lovewood. He was beaten so badly that she could hardly recognize his face. His eyes were two black boulders and the rags he wore had deteriorated to the point that they looked as if they might drip off of his body like candle wax at any moment.
“Should I let you two talk?” Brandon asked with laugher in his voice. “Perhaps discuss old times?”
“What….how?” Fiona didn’t even know what to ask. Of all the things she suspected Brandon might have hidden down here, Kevin Lovewood was the last she would have guessed.
“Hopefully this shows you that the Forgotten can be resourceful when there’s a reason for us to be.”
“Why do you have him?” Fiona asked. “What did he do?”
“What did he do?” Brandon snorted. “He stepped on the wrong toes.” He leaned down to eye level with Kevin Lovewood, positioning his own curved nose just inches from Kevin’s broken one. “Didn’t you, Lord Kevin? Have you learned your lesson?”
Fiona felt sick. It was true that there were few people she hated more than the old Master of Horse, but to see him so pathetically down…
“Are you torturing him for information?” Fiona asked.
Brandon chuckled. “This one’s not a fighter. He told us everything worth knowing long ago. This is purely the payment of a debt. Lord Kevin here tried to raid a caravan full of treasures meant for the Forgotten that was coming in from Laquath. Weren’t you, my little lordling?”
Kevin Lovewood tried to say something through the cloth that was tied tightly between his teeth. It was only then that Fiona realized with horror that his eyes were actually open, she just couldn’t tell because of how badly he had been beaten.
“We can’t hear you, my lord,” Brandon sneered. He untied the cloth from Kevin’s mouth. “Speak up!”
“I…I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know. Please, I wouldn’t have…I won’t ever take from the Forgotten again.” His voice was so dry and cracked that Fiona wondered if it had been days since the man was given water.
Brandon tied the cloth back in place. “Always so full of lies. Pathetic.”
“How long are you going to keep him?” Fiona asked.
“Until somebody gives enough of a shit about him to pay his ransom,” Brandon said. He turned and kicked Lovewood hard in the chest. “Don’t get your hopes up. Nobody has come for you yet and I don’t expect that will change.”
Fiona wrinkled her nose in disgust. Kevin Lovewood was a monster, but all the same…keeping him here like an animal in the dark served no purpose.
Yet there was something else, a nagging voice in the back of her head. Secretly buried deep within the many layers of her heart, underneath the fractures of what had been shattered by Rodrick two years ago, there was something that disturbed her more than Kevin Lovewood’s broken form. He deserves this, the voice told her. When it said that she felt a sense of joy that she had not felt in a very long time, and it terrified her.
Who am I becoming?
“So, Fiona,” Brandon said. “Do we have a deal? Will you provide information on Donyo Brownwater’s secret project in exchange for our assistance in capturing your brother?”
Fiona took a deep breath. When she raised her eyes to Brandon’s she saw no sympathy, no love, nothing that could bring the two together as true allies. Just circumstance, and a greedy man trying to take advantage of it.
“We’re agreed.” Fiona said. She grabbed Brandon’s hand, and they shook in the darkness of the tunnels beneath the Spotted Weasel.
An explosion above rocked the walls.
“What was that?” Fiona asked as she drew her demon-pommel blade.
“Nothing good,” Brandon said. “Come on.”
Fiona had expected Brandon, like most leaders when danger came, to flee down some secret path. But he quickly ran back to the room he had met her in, pulled a longsword off of the wall, and the two ran up towards the tavern’s main room. While they ran Fiona thought of the rune-bomb that had killed Aureno.
The two burst into the main chamber and found fighting all around them. City guards had rushed the tavern and were rounding people up as quickly as they could grab them. Growling snarls alerted Fiona to the fact that dogs had been released on the tavern as well. She looked around the room uncertainly. The last thing she wanted to do was start attacking guards, but at the same time she wasn’t about to be arrested for being mixed up with the Forgotten.
Deciding to take the middle ground Fiona sheathed her weapon and ran. A guard in an open-faced leather helm grabbed her arm, but let go instantly as she landed a savage blow with pointed knuckles into the bridge of his nose.
Two more guards approached her as soon as the first one fell.
“Stand down!” a thick-bearded man with greasy hair shouted at her. They stared at each other for half a heartbeat, and he lunged. Fiona ducked and swept her legs around in an arc, taking the thick-bearded guard down with a crash. The second one tried to dive on her, but her false motion made him think she was going to move. When he shifted accordingly, she flattened her right hand and shoved her fingers into his throat as hard as she could.
Quickly, she shot past him as he gasped for air on the ground. The door was in front of her opening the way into the snowy streets. There wasn’t a single obstacle in her path. Quick as she was able Fiona leapt like a rabbit towards the door. Refreshing cold air hit her face, and she sucked it in, tasting freedom.
Before she knew what had happened, she was on her belly coughing and sputtering. With a shock she realized that she couldn’t move a muscle. She was completely paralyzed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a guardsman with his face-mask down and a blue feather in his helm approach her.
“Good work with the rune,” he said to somebody she couldn’t see. His words turned to vapor in the chilly night air. Inside dogs were barking.
“Come on!” he shouted. “Let�
��s get them all in for questioning. Something foul is afoot here, and I aim to find out exactly what our friends are up to!”
Chapter Six
By midnight Fiona’s hands were tightly bound together by iron chains which were firmly linked to the table in front of her. She was in a room beneath one of many barracks scattered throughout the Stone District. She hadn’t seen what happened to Brandon. From what the guards had said she gathered that they used some sort of magical runes to paralyze her, and they hadn’t removed it until she was safely tied.
With nothing else to do she watched the single candle in the room slowly drip into nothingness in front of her. How long would they make her wait? It would be hell to be left there all night, positioned so that she couldn’t even lie down properly.
Suddenly she heard heavy footsteps creeping from down the hall. There was the sound of a key turning in a lock, and then a figure walked in the room. When Fiona saw those piggish eyes her heart skipped a beat.
“Ha! I can hardly believe it.” He had the same cruel chuckle that she had known since their days together at Clearwater.
“Jared.” Jared chortled to himself as he sat down behind her.
“Isn’t this interesting?” he said to her. “How is it that I’ve always known we would meet again on opposite sides of the law?”
“Why have I been arrested?” Fiona asked. She prepared for what she knew would be a very unpleasant conversation.
“Why indeed?” Jared mocked. “Perhaps for right now we could call it a matter of security. Where have you been for two years?”
“Who are you to question me?”
“I’m the one they put in the room,” Jared said. He leaned his face in close to hers. He had grown a lot in two years, but his tiny mean eyes and squat round head were instantly recognizable. “Now why don’t you tell me why after being gone for two years you go and show up in a criminal enterprise. When you’re done explaining that…” he moved away and turned his back to her. “Perhaps you can tell me why a member of Sun Circle’s court was chained and beaten in that same establishment?”
“I don’t know anything about it,” Fiona said. “I was just passing through and looking for a place to sleep.”
Jared reached into his overcoat and pulled out a long thin knife. He placed it carefully on the table, just out of the reach of Fiona’s tied hands.
“I’m going to ask you another question,” Jared said. “This time, when I do, you better tell me something along the lines of what I want to hear. Otherwise, it will not end well for you. Now, who is leading the Forgotten?”
It took every ounce of willpower that Fiona had to not berate him with insults. “What part of I don’t know anything don’t you understand? I can’t give you what I don’t have. What are you going to do about it, torture me? Sandra Redfire will roll your pudgy little head right off the mountain.”
Inside she was fuming. It was one thing dealing with opponents who actually meant something, but to be locked in a room with Jared…she couldn’t see him as anything more than the mean-spirited teen he had been. Two years wasn’t nearly enough time to wash that from him. A lifetime probably wouldn’t be.
Jared did not respond, but instead slowly walked around the room in a circle with his arms behind his back, as if deep in thought. “It’s always the same with you people,” he said. “A bully then, and a bully now. The only difference is now I’m the one with the power.”
“Bully!” The word burst from her mouth. The accusation was so hypocritical she wanted to scream.
“Always making fun of my weight at Clearwater. Always making fun of how I pared up against the other boys in class. Always saying that nobody would ever have a reason to see a shred of value in me. I haven’t forgotten Fiona, all the little ways you used to mock me. I haven’t forgotten how even when I talked about being proud of my city and wanting to keep it safe you tried to make me out to be a heartless degenerate.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I promise you, Jared, if I ever called you an asshole back when we were in school, it was because you were being an asshole.”
“A fat little shit with more chins than brains?” Jared said. “You said something like that, on that last day of school we had together. The day your traitor brother pretended to be kidnapped before attempting to take over the city. How’s he doing? Still out there roaming the world, or have the crows picked out his eyes yet?”
Fiona’s chains rattled furiously as she tried to break free. “Shut up! Shut up!” she screamed. “Why don’t you untie me and then we’ll see how much you want to prattle on with your nonsense?”
He merely chuckled while he watched her struggle. Fiona looked around the room for something, anything, but all she could see was the desk and Jared. Everything else was outside of the small light offered by the candle. She couldn’t even see where the walls began.
“We’ve already had our little fight for today, so no thank you. But you don’t need to get so worked up. I just wanted to take a little trip down memory lane, but I’m happy to get back to the topic at hand so I can get you out of my sight.” He came back close to her and placed his nose less than an inch from her own. “Now for the last time, tell me about the Forgotten. Or have you gone so brain-dead after selling your cunt for the last two years that you truly don’t know anything?”
She slammed her forehead into his nose with every ounce of energy left in her body. The crunch it made as it broke was more satisfying than warm broth on a cold night.
“You fucking bitch!” he shouted from the ground. “I’ll kill you for that! Don’t think I won’t!” Even in the dim lighting Fiona could see the blood streaming from Jared’s face. Underneath his eyes two dark bruises were already slowly forming.
“That was a big mistake, Sacrosin,” he said as he rose to his feet. He was fuming with rage and bleeding hard. Fiona wondered if he’d be dumb and clumsy enough to allow her to do it again.
“I’m trembling in my boots,” she mocked.
He ignored the comment and picked the knife up off the table. She eyed it nervously, but tried not to let her anxiety show. “What, you’re going to kill me for smacking your noggin? Is that what the city guard has come to these days?”
“What if I don’t kill you?” Jared said. His voice was low and dangerous. “What if I just think that whoever gave you that scar on your forehead didn’t quite do a good enough job? Maybe I should leave a little more decoration.”
“Stop,” she said. She put her hands on the table to keep them from trembling. Jared approached her breathlessly and placed the point of the knife directly underneath her eye.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she eased back into her seat. “Are you worried I might do something you wouldn’t like? Are you worried that I might do something to make you feel demeaned and humiliated, like take your eye? I wouldn’t do that. At least, I wouldn’t have done that before you broke my nose.”
Moving gently but quickly he traced the knife along the skin underneath her eye. For a moment there was nothing. Then she felt it. A warm thin line of blood formed on her face. “You coward,” she said.
His lips barely moved, but she saw the smile. “You still haven’t learned your manners.” He placed the knife under her eye once more.
THWACK
The door smacked inward so furiously that the knife fell from Jared’s hand with a clamor onto the floor. “What’s going on in here?” a deep voice boomed. Fiona’s heart raced, as she was certain the noise would have made Jared plunge the knife into her eye whether on purpose or not. The new guard’s face was hidden behind a helm.
“Interrogating the prisoner, Captain,” Jared said quickly.
“What happened to you?”
“This devil bashed her skull into my nose and broke it! We should see her hanged!”
“You allowed yourself to be injured by a prisoner with her hands chained to a table?”
Jared’s face flushed red. “I was provoked into going nea
r her and—”
“We will discuss this later. Get out.”
Jared’s furious eyes found her, and though he didn’t say a word she saw the threat that was in them. She gave him a sly smile, and he left.
Fiona looked towards the newcomer and was surprised to see that she immediately recognized a blue feather in his helm. He was there when she was arrested.
“I had not expected to meet you under these circumstances, Fiona,” he said. Before Fiona had a chance to ask who he was the guard removed his helm. Fiona could have laughed with relief.
* * *
“Martin!”
Before her stood Martin Lightwing. His curly brown hair had been flattened by his helm, but everything else about him was the same as she had last seen him down to his wisp of a mustache and lanky arms.
“It’s been a long time, Fiona. I must admit that I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Did you know I was in the Spotted Weasel?”
“Not until I was arresting you,” Martin replied. Fiona couldn’t help but notice that something seemed off. This was still Martin, but he was different. His voice was colder and his eyes were darker than when she had last seen him.
“I had all but given up hope,” he said. “After you left, we had no news of you whatsoever. Nobody knew if you were alive or dead.”
Fiona sighed. If he expected to guilt her after all of this time then Martin Lightwing would be in for a big disappointment. “I gave all the explanation I could before I left. I had something imp—”
“Why were you consorting with a known criminal organization in the Spotted Weasel?”
Fiona felt as though Martin had just slapped her. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to offer me a cup of wine and untie me first?” Her voice was a growl.
“After you assaulted one of my respected soldiers, no I think not. Now tell me about the—”