by Isaac Hooke
“Like Nemertes,” Malem said softly.
“What was that?” Solan asked.
“Nemertes lost her lover to men,” Malem said. “And she hates most of us. Except me of course.”
“Of course,” Solan said. “Because you had the luxury of Breaking her.”
“That’s right,” Malem said.
“A Balor’s ability,” Solan commented. “I’ve always regarded Breakers as somewhat evil, and wondered if they weren’t touched by Darkness in some way. I was proved right when I met you.”
“Most Breakers inherit the ability naturally by birth,” Malem said. “Just as mages inherit their magic. Most aren’t given their powers by a Balor. Most aren’t nearly drawn into the Black Realm when they’re eight years old.”
“Do you expect me to pity you?” Solan asked.
“No,” Malem said. “For the longest time I expected the world to pity me, however. To show me mercy. And I hated the world when it did not. The half monster women I Broke, they distracted me from that hatred. Almost turned me away from it. Can you believe they actually had me fighting for the world?” Malem chuckled softly, and shook his head. “But Vorgon taught me to embrace that hate. To let it fill me. He taught me that I was right to hate this world, and he promised me that together we would destroy it, for what it had done to me.” He smiled widely. “I certainly love my master.”
Solan shuddered visibly.
“So what sort of position in Metal society did Sylfi and Brita hold?” Malem asked. “They’re expert markswomen, I assume? Unless the bows they carry in human form are just for show?”
It seemingly took a moment for Solan to recover, but then he spoke. “No, they can use those bows. They held no official position. They liked to wander, apparently. I heard they often journeyed beyond the boundaries of our land, where the collars we formerly wore prevented us from transforming. Having skill with the bow would be critical to their survival during such instances. Not just to hunt for food, but for protection.”
“I somehow doubt the two of them would’ve ever truly been in trouble out there, given their half dragon natures,” Malem said.
“The collars constricted our strength when we were beyond our territory,” Solan said. “So yes, if they ever allowed themselves to be surrounded by bandits, things could become very ugly for them.”
“Hm, interesting.” Malem thought back to how weak Abigail had been while collared beyond Metal territory, and he supposed Solan was right.
“So what about you?” Malem pressed. “What position did you hold in the hierarchy of Khaledonius under King Agantas?”
“I was a guard in the main keep,” Solan said.
Malem sat back. “And Gannet?”
“He ran a merchant business,” Solan said. “Trading with men. He had his own merchants he hired, and they would go back and forth across the realm, trading goods. Sometimes he went with them.”
“So you’re the only real fighter I have on my team,” Malem said.
“Oh, Gannet was a fighter at one point,” Solan said. “Why do you think he carries a sword in human form? He fought against the Elk King. But after we retook the city, he swore never to touch the blade again, and renounced his fighting ways.”
“And yet he took up arms once more,” Malem said.
“Against Vorgon, yes,” Solan said. “For King Agantas. We all did.”
“And for me,” Malem said.
Solan inclined his head in acquiescence.
“You don’t have a woman?” Malem asked.
“I did,” Solan said, his eyes growing distant. “And a child as well.”
“Never mind,” Malem said. “I don’t think I want to know. This is going to end badly.”
Solan nodded. “Good guess. They fell when the Elk King pillaged my city. My wife and child transformed into dragons to protect my home, but they were too weak against the human mages the Elk King had brought. He subdued them, tortured them.” Solan closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Malem said.
Solan shrugged.
“You should be happy that Vorgon is destroying the world, then,” Malem said. “We’re going to wipe out humanity. At least in its current form.”
“I don’t hate humans,” Solan said quietly. “Hating them would be tantamount to hating myself. Or part of myself, anyway.”
“But Sylfi and Brita do it,” Malem said.
“I’m not Sylfi and Brita,” Solan replied. “Besides, Vorgon intends to wipe out more than humanity. He wishes to eradicate all Metals, too, and other races of the light.”
“Races of the light,” Malem said. “Whoever came up with these classifications anyway? Races are not inherently good or evil. The temperament of the individuals in those races can vary across the spectrum.”
“You’d think so,” Solan said. “But I’ve never met an orak that didn’t want to kill everything in sight. Nor a night elf that didn’t want to rule the world.”
“What about Ziatrice?” Malem asked.
“My point exactly,” Solan replied.
Malem chuckled. “Okay, you win.”
Solan studied him intently. “I can see why Wendolin believes she can save you. Though Vorgon’s taint is strong within you, it’s obvious the Balor hasn’t achieved full control of your mind. Or perhaps that’s only because of the collar you wear, muting Vorgon’s hold. I doubt we would have had the conversation that just took place if you weren’t wearing that collar.”
Malem narrowed his eyes. “This conversation is over. Go back to your quarters.”
Solan stood, and bowed slightly before leaving.
One of the elven mages entered a moment later.
“What do you want?” Malem asked.
The elf gave him a cool look. “Wendolin is asking for you.”
“Finally,” Malem said. “I was wondering when she’d come around. I’m a much better lover than that moronic dragon.”
“I don’t think she wants you in her bed,” the elf said.
“What does she want, then?” Malem pressed.
The elf smiled. “That’s for the queen to tell you.”
18
Malem stood before the queen in the study of the vast rooms that served as her quarters. Two elven mages stood at his side, clad in their green-specked brown robes.
“You may go,” Wendolin told the elves.
“But my queen, he—” one of the elves began.
“Go,” she said more forcefully.
The two elves bowed, and left.
Wendolin beckoned toward the empty seat across from him. It was built out of wood. That made Malem reluctant to sit upon it, given how she could manipulate the material.
Then again, the walls and floor were of wood, too, so it wasn’t like it really mattered.
He took a seat.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Dothloron so far?” she asked.
“Not really,” Malem said. “Maybe if I was allowed to roam the grounds freely, I would.”
“Maybe some day,” the queen said.
“How do you leave the city?” Malem said. “Or even enter?”
“There are only a few entrances and exits,” Wendolin said. “We keep them well guarded. They blend in with the surrounding forest, and are easily missed by ordinary passersby. Only those who know precisely what they are looking for may find these entrances. We like to keep Dothloron hidden away from the realm of men.”
“And yet you’re aware of who comes and goes in your forest?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Elves watch the eaves at all hours. We were aware of you the moment we sighted your dragons in the distance, flying over the Wilden plains.”
“Why did you attack us?” Malem said.
“As I mentioned when we last spoke, you had an odd mix with you,” she said. “Six half dragons. A night elf. A half gobling. An Eldritch.”
“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked.
“I’ve decided I’m go
ing to execute the women that came with you,” she answered casually, as if talking about the morning’s tea. “Starting with the green one.”
Malem allowed himself to betray no emotion. “Is that what Solan suggested?”
“He did tell me you seem to have a particular affinity to that one,” the queen replied.
Malem suppressed a sudden rage.
I’ll have to have a little talk with that loose-lipped asshat later.
He shrugged. “Kill them all. I don’t care. They serve only to grant me slots for Breaking monsters.”
“And you’re not worried about losing these ‘slots’ of yours?” she asked.
“Not in the least,” he said. “I can simply Break others.”
“But you need ‘others’ of a certain proclivity,” she said. “Men and women who are half human. Such as myself. They are rare.”
“Not rare when you visit an enclave of Metals,” he said casually.
“Except the Metals have been routed, and you have no idea where to find such an enclave,” she said.
“But you know,” Malem said. “Don’t you? A Metal envoy came this way after the dragons were routed from Khaledonius. Before they departed, they told you where you could find the king. In case you changed your mind and decided to join the war.”
She gave him a blank look that seemed particularly forced.
“And once I Break you,” he continued. “I’ll dredge the depths of your mind until I rip out the knowledge of their location. Then I’ll go and Break me some more half dragons. Or perhaps you’re even harboring some Metals here in your city at this very moment. Either way, I’ll replenish my slots.”
She stared at him for a long moment. He couldn’t read her.
“Very well, then. Let’s kill them.” She looked over one shoulder and shouted: “Bring them in.”
A door opened behind her, and an elf marched inside. He carried a vine rope that threaded around the necks of Mauritania, Ziatrice and Gwenfrieda in turn. Tall Mauritania had to duck her head to fit the close confines.
The three of them stood there uncertainly. They had worried looks written on their faces, as if they knew the queen was about to inflict some terrible punishment upon them in an attempt to secure Malem’s loyalty.
“Now is your last chance,” Wendolin said.
He forced his gaze from the women to the queen. He stared her down, saying nothing.
When he didn’t reply, he heard a yelp: sharp thorns had erupted from the vines wrapped around the throats of the three women, pricking their flesh hard enough to draw blood. The trio flinched in pain.
“Wait!” Malem thought furiously. But he couldn’t come up with a way to save them.
“Yes?” the queen asked.
He worked his mouth, but couldn’t make himself form the words.
Those thorns grew further. Gwenfrieda was gasping for breath.
“I yield,” Malem finally said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Tell me the makeup of Vorgon’s army,” Wendolin said. “How many Black Swords does the Balor have? Dragons?”
When he hesitated once again, she glanced at the women, and the thorns grew longer yet, digging deeper into their necks.
“Vorgon has eight thousand oraks,” Malem said quickly. “Three thousand dwarves. Two thousand night elves, fifteen hundred men, one thousand goblings, eight hundred Blue dragons, five hundred Eldritch, four hundred Black dragons, two hundred dire wolves, one hundred Troglodons, twenty basilisks…” And he rattled off the remainder.
“How many Black Swords?” she asked.
“Five,” he said.
“What are the Balor’s plans?” she said. “Which city does Vorgon intend to take next?”
“That I don’t know,” Malem said. “I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, as if she was unsure she believed him, but then said: “You will swear obedience to me. You will promise to wear that collar for the rest of your life. And to never lay a hand against me.”
He smiled inside. Was that all it took? A false promise?
“I swear this,” he said, keeping his expression neutral.
“Good,” Wendolin said. She lowered her hand, and the thorns retracted from the vines around the necks of the three women; the trio still bled profusely. “Take them to the healer,” she ordered the elf.
The elf male nodded, and led them from the room. Gwenfrieda bumped into the wall groggily before she left. He watched her leave, and the elf shut the door behind them.
“I haven’t broken you yet,” the queen said. “But I’m off to a good start.”
“You will remove the vines from their throats?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. Those were just for show. I have complete control over the collars they wear. I can crush the life out of them at will. Remotely. Keep that in mind, if ever you think to disobey me. If you somehow managed to escape your own collar, for example, and attempted to wrap your will around my own, as soon as I felt you in my head I would kill your women.”
That was certainly an interesting problem.
“I have complete control of the collar you wear as well,” she added.
The collar suddenly tightened against his neck, even though his fingers weren’t anywhere near it. He couldn’t breathe. He dug his fingers into the band’s rim, trying to find purchase, but couldn’t. Stars assailed his vision, and the room grew dim.
He sought out Vorgon at his core, instinctively wanting to drain stamina from his master, but the Balor’s presence inside of him had vanished entirely, as had the men and women Malem had bound. He panicked, searching frantically through his mental space for any sign of them. But there was nothing there. Nothing…
Wait. He found something on the periphery of his mind. Floating there, abutting against his will, as if not actually a part of him, but existing slightly outside his mind. He didn’t recognize it. The energy bundle didn’t belong to any of the men and women he owned, nor to Vorgon. Its signature felt strangely foreign. Completely unlike any animal or monster he had ever bound.
His vision had been reduced to a tunnel at that point, but he hardly noticed. He was drawn to that bundle. Wanted to know what it was.
Could it be Wendolin?
He reached inside of it, and the pressure at his throat subsided, very slightly.
Wendolin’s eyes widened.
Before he could do anything further, the collar clamped down harder than ever, and he toppled from his seat, dropping to the floor.
Malem was too weak to search for that external presence. His vision had faded to a small point of light. He would lose consciousness shortly.
Then the collar loosened, returning to its former girth around his throat. Malem sucked in the air in heavy, throat-burning gasps. As he lay there, panting, vision slowly returned. As did Vorgon’s energy bundle at his core, along with the bundles of the men and women he had Broken.
While he recovered, he searched the periphery of his mind and found the foreign energy again. He slid his will around it and applied subtle pressure. It wobbled slightly beneath his touch. He was reminded of a tongue worrying a loose tooth.
“Well, that’s troubling,” Wendolin said.
Malem immediately released the foreign bundle. He would explore that source later tonight when the city, and the queen herself, slept. Either the bundle embodied her mind as represented through the collar, or it symbolized the collar itself. But if it was her mind, perhaps he could Break her right here.
He was tempted, but he decided against it, at least for the time being. If it was her mind, she’d need to be physically weakened before he could crush her will. That, or he’d have to seduce her.
Depending on how things go in the next few minutes, the latter might certainly be possible.
“What’s troubling?” he said, pushing himself upright.
“For a moment I thought…” But then she bit her tongue. “Nothing.”
He returned to the seat and st
ared into her eyes. He allowed his voice to deepen slightly. “You have broken me. You have proved you are my master. What would you like me to do next, mistress? Speak. I am yours to do with as you please.” He didn’t break eye contact once. He repeated the last phrase for emphasis. “As you please.”
She must have sensed the sudden sexual tension he had created, because when she shifted, her eyes didn’t break from his, as if he were the only thing that existed in the world at this moment. Her nostrils flared very slightly, and he took that as a sign to continue.
“It must be hard,” he continued. “Trying to balance being a queen, with being a woman. One is required to be prim and proper at all times, while the other just wants to be wild and free. The woman doesn’t get to come out often enough, I suspect. The queen rules with an iron fist, and keeps the woman hemmed up inside. But when she comes out, she acts with years of pent-up restraint. Let her free now. No one will ever know.”
She licked her lips, saying nothing.
“This moment in time will never come again,” Malem continued, leaning forward. Across the table, she leaned into him, matching his body language. A good sign. He spoke slowly, hypnotically. “You and I will never be here again, together, in this particular moment. The tides of time ebb ever forward, drawing everything with them. If you don’t act on your womanly urges, if you don’t allow her to be free, you will look back on this day and wonder: what could have been? What—”
She sat back suddenly and smirked. “Tricked ya! Nice try, though. I’m not ready to fuck you, however.”
Malem frowned, sitting back himself. She was definitely a good actor. So much for seducing her, then.
He reached for the foreign source in his mind, but restrained himself in the last moment.
I’ll experiment with it tonight.
“So, there is something you can do for me, now that you’ve been broken, as you claim,” she continued.
“Oh?” he asked.
“After your arrival, I sent scouts outside the Dothweald,” she explained. “They traveled to the southernmost end of the Wilden plains to watch the Harken Mountains. Yesterday afternoon, my scouts detected a black host issuing from those mountains.”
“Vorgon,” Malem said.