The Silent Tempest (Book 2) (17 page)

“Did you know that your other child, the
one taken by the Mordan, has already begun fighting in the arena? Gravenna has
won five matches,” finished the lore-warden.

Tyrion had known none of that.
“Gravenna? That’s the name they chose for her?”

Thillmarius nodded.

“Your people have terrible taste in
names.”

“The point,” continued Thillmarius, “is
that she has already defied the odds. The question is, whether it is purely
because of your genetics or whether it is due to your short visit with her?”

“It probably has a lot more to do with her
life before she was captured,” observed Tyrion.

“Eventually I hope to tease out those
factors as well,” said the She’Har trainer. “I have begun a small project
within the slave pens here in Ellentrea. I’ve had some of the younglings kept
in a separate area, to be reared by their mothers after weaning, rather than
putting them in the general pen.”

He knew that Thillmarius had always been
deeply interested in the subject of human beings, that was why the She’Har had
become a trainer, and why he had been elevated to lore-warden, but he hadn’t
expected to hear something like that. “How is that going then?” he asked.

The Prathion grimaced, “Several of the
younglings died, killed by their mothers, but the remaining five are doing
quite well.”

The She’Har’s words hardly bothered Tyrion
anymore, though they sounded callous, there was no true malice behind them.
Thillmarius talked about people in much the same way his father had once spoken
of sheep.
He hopes to improve his herd.

Thillmarius sent the first two wardens
that he encountered to begin collecting the Illeniel slaves while they waited
in a small open courtyard. The two men returned a few minutes later with
fifteen very pale and shaky looking teenagers. Some of them looked as though
they had lost weight, and none of them looked like they had been enjoying their
stay in Ellentrea. Squinting and blinking at the sun, they stared at Tyrion
with recognition and perhaps some hope.

“Have they been outside at all?” he asked
the She’Har trainer.

“Yes, of course,” said Thillmarius. “I’ve
had them out to be exercised and make sure they got some sun on their skin.”

Two of the boys, Ryan and Ian, looked
positively ill and Abigail Moore was almost skeletal. “Have they been eating?”

“Some of them have,” said Thillmarius,
“but one of the females has been refusing to eat for the past few days. I have
to admit, Tyrion, I don’t think they’re doing well. I’ve had them all checked
to make sure they really are your offspring, but they don’t seem to be as hardy
as you were.”

“I nearly died of a fever when I first
came here,” reminded Tyrion.

The lore-warden nodded, “Yes, but you
improved after Lyralliantha remanded you into my care. Your children have
gotten worse. I have begun to doubt my choices. The wardens have suggested
that their soft treatment may be the problem. Do you think whipping would
stimulate their appetites?”

“No,” said Tyrion immediately.
Except
in the case of complete refusal to eat,
he thought, looking at Abigail.
Of
course, I think I can come up with better solutions than that.
“Where is
the woman?” he asked, noting Kate’s absence.

“Do you really want that one back?” asked
Thillmarius. “It may take a while to find her. She was put in with the
nameless servants. I could easily replace her with one or two others if you
just need labor to help care for them.”

Dread filled him. The nameless were the
lowest of the low in Ellentrea, those without enough ability to be considered
for the arena, to win a name. Technically, his children were still counted as
‘nameless’, but they had been segregated and marked for special treatment. He
could only imagine what Kate might have gone through.

“Allow me to find her,” suggested Tyrion.
“I know her aythar well enough to spot her at a distance, and I’m very familiar
with Ellentrea.”

“There’s no need,” said Thillmarius. “I
can send the wardens.”

“I will be quicker.”

“Very well,” agreed the lore-warden. “I
will have them keep the children here while you search. I have other things
that need attending to. If you have any difficulty finding her, or if
something has happened, please feel free to take two others to repay
Lyralliantha.”

“You are too kind,” said Tyrion,
suppressing his budding anger. Letting his emotions get the better of him
would be counterproductive as well as pointless. He opened his mind to its
fullest, scanning the auras of the hundreds within range of him. His legs were
moving already, taking him in the direction of the large communal huts that
housed the nameless.

That proved to be a dead end. Kate was
not there, so he was forced to begin a long circuitous walk around Ellentrea.
It was half an hour before he found her. She was in one of the private huts of
the wardens. That alone would have upset him. Other than cleaning, there was
only one reason one of the nameless would be in one of the wardens’ homes.

One of them had decided they needed a new
toy.

Unwanted visions entered his mind, of
Kate, beaten and forced into…
No, I’m not going to think about that. I just
have to get her out.
He had picked up speed as soon as he had spotted her
and was drawing closer at a jog.

She was with someone, someone with a
strong aythar, most likely the warden who lived there.

Another quarter mile and he would be
there, but his mind was so focused on Kate he could hardly maintain enough
awareness to keep from stumbling as he ran. The warden was holding her, their
heads close together. With a flash, he realized that the warden was a woman,
and it was someone he knew, Layla.

Layla was almost a friend. She and Garlin
had been frequent playmates, although neither of them would have used a word as
strong as ‘friend’ to describe their relationship. Tyrion knew better though,
Layla and Garlin had been as close as wardens could be. She would mourn
Garlin’s death.

He was close enough now to see exactly
what they were doing, and talking had little to do with it. During his time in
Ellentrea he had seen many things, and the ‘favors’ that were traded amongst
its inhabitants were frequently between members of the same sex, perhaps not
quite as often as between opposite genders, but it was by no means unusual.

But, the transactions between wardens and
the nameless were rarely consensual. It was a matter of power, and the lack
thereof. While Tyrion himself had once had a relationship with one of them,
Amarah, he had not abused her. He had been seeking love, something the wardens
simply couldn’t understand.

Now one of them had made a toy of Kate.

He hadn’t really let the possibility enter
his mind, and now that he was suddenly faced with, it he found his anger
burning white hot.

The door wouldn’t open at his touch since
it wasn’t his dwelling. Inside the two women had paused, pulling apart. Layla
could just as easily see that he was outside as he could sense her within.

Tyrion’s aythar flared as he activated one
of his arm-blades and destroyed the door, its frame, and some of the wall.
Layla’s shield came up as he strode into the room. She was standing in front
of Kate. She was also naked and flushed. While nudity was required for most
slaves of the She’Har, it was optional for the wardens, and they rarely removed
the outward sign of their elevated status.

“Tyrion!” she exclaimed. “This isn’t
what…”

He swept his arm to one side, gesturing as
he used his aythar to slam her toward the wall, making sure she wouldn’t crash
into Kate. The force of the blow stunned her for a moment, but her shield
held. Tyrion raised a shield of his own, one that encircled the room enclosing
the two of them but excluding Kate. Layla was a Prathion and he expected her
to use her gift to try to escape.

It was the only way she could hope to
avoid death, after all.

The warden remained visible, but she
strengthened her shield. “Tyrion please, listen to me.”

He growled and his next strike was more
controlled, using just enough strength to shatter her shield without causing
her too much physical harm. Layla sagged against the wall as the feedback
threatened to rob her of her consciousness. “You should have known better,
Layla,” he replied coldly. Stretching his hands apart he formed the red whip
that was so often favored by the wardens.

Killing her wouldn’t be enough. He wanted
to prolong the moment.

“Daniel stop!” shouted Kate.

“You’re too soft, Kate,” he responded.
“They have to know what will happen to anyone who hurts one of mine.” He
stepped forward, preparing to bring the whip down on the senseless warden.

“She didn’t hurt me, you idiot!”

“I lived in this place for years, Kate. I
know exactly how things work. Whatever happened, whatever she’s done to you, it
wasn’t your fault. If you don’t want to see this, wait outside.” He
readjusted the shield to allow Kate to reach the door.

She didn’t move. “Let her go, Daniel.
She protected me.”

“I know how ‘protection’ works here,” said
Daniel. “And Layla should have known enough to know how I would react if she
expected you to pay for such a thing.”

“That’s not what was going on,” insisted
Kate.

“I could see what was happening.”

Kate glared at him, “I kissed her! Stop
being a fool!”

He lost his concentration for a moment,
letting the whip vanish. Blinking, he looked at Kate, uncertain. “Wait…
what?”

“You heard me.” Now that she had his
attention, she made no effort to hide how angry she was.

“I don’t understand.”

“Maybe if your first reaction to every
problem wasn’t trying to kill someone, you’d discover that the world is more
complicated than you imagine,” she told him. She was pressing against the
shield now. “Will you take this down so I can get to her?”

He glared at her.

“Please?!” she said with some exasperation.

Tyrion dismissed the shield and watched as
she crossed over to Layla. Kate lifted the other woman’s head, brushing back
her hair and stroking her cheek gently. The warden’s eyes rolled as she tried
to focus on her.

“What did you do to her?” asked Kate
worriedly.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. “I broke her
shield. It’s the feedback, she’ll be fine in a little while.”

“You’re a bully, Daniel.”

His frustration returned, rekindling his
anger, “I was trying to protect you.”

“From what? Being kissed to death? There
was no need to be so violent,” argued his childhood friend.

“I don’t think you really comprehend what
these people are like,” said Tyrion. “They aren’t like the people of Colne.
They’re raised like animals. It does something to their minds. They behave
like savages. They do things you wouldn’t believe.”

“Like what? Women kissing?”

“That isn’t what I meant, but it’s an
example. That doesn’t happen in Colne…”

“Yes it does,” declared Kate. “You’re
just too stupid to know about it.”

For the first time in a very long time,
Tyrion’s cheeks colored, and he found himself on the defensive. “Who then?” he
asked confronting her head on.

“Me,” shot back Kate.

“You and who?”

“Darla Long,” she announced brusquely,
naming the mother of one of Tyrion’s children, Anthony Long.

“When was this?!” he demanded.

“After you left—the first time,” she
replied. “Before I married Seth…” She grew hesitant then, pausing, “…and then
again a few years ago.”

“Did Seth know that?!”

“No!” she answered, balling up her fists.
“Things got difficult between us, not that it’s any of your business. He never
asked, and I never told him.”

“So you were cheating on him, with a
woman?” He was having trouble thinking clearly. All his assumptions about
Kate seemed to be wrong.

Kate marched forward, planting her finger
in the middle of his chest. “You…!” she declared with emphasis, “…have no
business judging me, not after all the things you’ve done.”

Unable to think of a better response he
glared at her, and she stared back, boldly. Her green eyes were never more
attractive than when she was furious. Then his mind registered the gathering
crowd of wardens in the street outside. “We need to leave,” he told her.

Kate went to Layla and began helping her
to her feet.

“Leave her,” said Tyrion.

“She’s coming with us.”

“She belongs to the Prathion Grove,” he
answered. “She stays.”

“Then I’m staying too,” replied Kate.

He considered killing her. No, killing
both of them. Then he would destroy the room, the street, and burn Ellentrea to
the ground.
I wonder how far I could get, before they managed to stop me.
Taking
a deep breath he finally replied, “Fine. Bring her. I’ll think of something.”