Thy Father's Shadow (Book 4.5) (12 page)

Xem was perhaps the twitchiest of them, a knife drawn from his scabbard and clutched in his hands. It was ornate and well decorated, with a skull on the pommel grinning back at him. When Terian met Xem’s eyes, he saw something that he hadn’t seen from the gentleman of Sovar before, a kind of fear or pain that quickly vanished when he realized that Terian was looking at him. He fidgeted once more, tucked the knife back into his belt, and sat still for a time after that, making no noise.

Nightfall came on a few hours later, filling the cave with darkness like the slow rise of floodwaters. Terian kept as near to motionless as possible, but compared to his father, he failed horribly. Amenon was a statue of himself, not meditating, not fidgeting, simply sitting as still or more so than even Grinnd. The movement of his eyes in the dark, flicking from each member of his party to the next was the only sign he was even still alive, though Terian recognized the determined look in his father’s eyes. It would be a bad time to raise his ire. Hours of introspection had not left him with an overabundance of desire for a verbal sparring match with his father in any event.
I just want to move, to swing my sword, to throw a Lockjaw curse at something that will feel it
.

“Come,” Amenon said after the cave had become totally enshrouded with the rise of night. He stood, slowly and quietly, his armor making only the slightest noise as he did so. There was a faint glow of torches somewhere outside, fires burning so that the titans could see in the dark, their eyes as pathetic at seeing through the blackness as a human’s.
We are the rulers of the night
, Terian thought,
just as Yartraak always intended it
.
It is our birthright, the dark, and we knights who tread in the shadows are the ones to walk in both worlds.

They walked out of the cave, the rough stone path echoing with the clatter of metal from the ones who wore plate boots. It was quiet enough outside that Verret motioned them forward, no sign of any sentries to block their passage. A ring road circled the bowl of the valley, and as they crossed it Terian took only cursory notice of the surface being made of solid wood. They descended into the city, which was laid out in a pattern before them, down in the bottom of the valley, stone buildings from one side of the natural bowl in the land to the other.

They reached street level, leaving the ramp behind as they ran for cover in the shadow of the nearest house. They stuck to the dark spots on the street, veering carefully away from the illuminated zones where torches cast their light. The whole of the town had a powerful stink, stronger than any other town he’d been in. He wondered at it for a moment, then dodged when a window above him opened on the massive house that they were walking along the front of. Something was thrown out the window and splashed onto the wooden street magnifying the foul stench. It took Terian only a moment to realize it was a chamber pot that had been emptied.

“Holy Sovereign,” Xem said, nearly gagging. “No wonder the place smells so powerfully bad.”

“Aye,” Grinnd said with a wary look, barely visible in the shadow in which they were hiding, “their turds are as big as you.” He smiled broadly and looked over at Verret, chucking a thumb at the scout. “And they look like him.”

“Silence,” Amenon said, only once, and a pall fell over the group, as though someone had stolen their voices. Terian looked around at each of them, all serious now.
If this were Sanctuary, Vaste would still be cracking wise, filling the air with his japes.
He felt a hardening in his heart and his resolve.
Just as well, then; base foolishness has no place in a mission such as this
.

They followed Verret’s lead. The scout seemed to have a map either in his mind or close about his person, because he never once came back to them for directions and never seemed to doubt his course. Terian wondered if he’d simply missed seeing his father give Verret a map to lead them to their destination or if the man was operating from some instinct that he was unaware of.
No … Father would never allow him to simply drag us along without purpose.
He watched as Verret took them down an alley as black as any day in Sovar, following the lead.
No, he’s been told where to go.

They slid up to a house that was a towering thing, a multi-story creation that had some ornate finishings around the edges of the stone building. They crept to the door. Even before they attempted to open it, Terian wondered if it was barred.
That would make this a short trip.

Verret halted them next to it. The nearest lamp was down the street a long ways, but a lantern glowed in the window, casting a pale light for them. Verret held up a hand calling for silence, then motioned for them to each take up position by the door and gestured for Grinnd to open it. They all lined up, Amenon first behind Grinnd at the edge of the frame. The big warrior reached under the crack between the ground and the door and hooked his arms underneath it. He started to pull, keeping his exertion quiet, even as the strain began to show on his face. It grew a deeper blue, navy, as though he were holding his breath while pulling with all the force in his muscles. Terian saw a crack appear in between the frame and the door, and it grew wide enough for Verret to squeeze in, which he did, then his hand popped back out and motioned for them to follow. Amenon went first, with Xem only seconds behind him. Dahveed and Terian followed, while Bowe brought up the rear as Grinnd shut the door very slowly behind them.

They found themselves in a wide, open room with a hearth roaring with faint flames that still stood taller than Terian’s head. He stared at the massive logs within the fireplace and wondered from whence they had come, remembering tales of massive forests south of Kortran in the mountains that spanned the expanse between the titan city and the Ashen Wastelands of the dragons to the south. There were no signs of giants in the room, nor of any living things at all, just a mighty staircase in the corner with steps taller than a man.

“How did you find this place, Verret?” Terian asked, approaching the grey-clad scout as the man drew his sword. Terian heard the others unsheathe their blades. His eyes fell on Grinnd, who carried two fat swords with blades as wide as his thigh, but shorter than the average bastard sword.

Verret’s long, thin, curved blade matched its master in two of the dimensions. If he leaned over, he’d just about look like it. “I studied the map of Kortran that your father gave me and noted the location that was given to us.” He tapped his head. “It’s all in here, now, along with an exit route, should we need it.” His eyes flicked to Bowe. “Though I suspect we’ll just teleport once we’re done.”

“I didn’t see you look at a map,” Terian said, more for conversation than anything.

“I only need to look once,” Verret replied, his long, white length of hair swaying behind him as he took the lead again, keeping close to the wall at their left. He looked ready to make a circle around the perimeter of the room, which was shadowed, the dying fire the only source of light. Terian was the first to follow him this time, and they clung close to a rock wall. There appeared a buckle in the wood under the stairs, and Terian realized after a moment that it was a hole, only barely concealed. He started to point to it but Verret nodded once, sharply, to stop him.

It was going to be a tight squeeze, Terian realized, looking it over. Verret halted a good thirty feet away, behind a well-placed bucket that was large enough for all of them to hide in plus a few others.
That’s a blind hole that we’re going to have to charge into
. Terian’s eyes tried to pierce the darkness within. He looked back and saw his father doing the same, peering at it. Verret waited until Amenon gave a gesture to move up, and they all slowed their pace to the quietest speed possible, tiptoeing along. Loud snores echoed through the house from upstairs; Terian was certain that if a titan was moving around up there, it would be obvious.
So we’re being quiet for the sake of this heretic. This mysterious heretic
. He tried to remember the face from the sketch on the poster his father had brought.

They reached the stairs and filtered into two lines, each taking a side of the hole. Because it was so near to the wall, only Verret and Dahveed went to the left, placing their backs to the wood and pushing themselves into the corner where the stairs met the wall. Verret stood closest to the hole, staring across at Terian, who was just behind Grinnd and Amenon in the line on their side. Amenon was still, resolute, and Terian could tell he was listening. There was no sound to be heard, though, all noise drowned out by the terrible snoring from above.

Terian stood with his back against the wall, the hard wood and his weight pushing his armor against him even through the light padding he wore to cushion it. He could feel the spikes on his pauldrons dig into the grain of the wood as he pressed against it, leaving indentations. The smell that permeated all of Kortran was present here as well, the stink of the titans, and the smell of footprints that had trod in those filthy streets. It was so thick he could nearly taste it over the salty remnants of the jerky he had eaten hours ago. He saw his father make the hand sign to move and he did, careful not to butt up against Amenon in front of him but to follow a respectable distance behind. Thalless shoved a hand past Terian and cast Nessalima’s light, forcing Terian to look away just briefly before turning back to see Grinnd and his father already down on their knees, grappling with a rustling figure wrapped tight in a bedroll.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Terian said, pausing just behind the two of them. They surged to their feet, the struggling figure firmly grasped between them as Amenon reached back and hauled off, punching the man wrapped in the bedroll squarely in the face. He slumped, unconscious, and Grinnd delicately wrapped his arms around the man and hoisted him on his shoulders.

“So that’s Sert Engoch,” Verret said, not sheathing his sword but keeping his voice to a whisper.

“I’m not certain,” Amenon said, coldly dispassionate. “Let’s have a look at him, Grinnd.”

The big warrior brought the limp body down and Dahveed brought his hand closer, the soft glow of the Nessalima’s light spell illuminating the face of the possible heretic. The dark elven features were impossible to deny, and they looked plump, every bit the same as the ones on the poster, and possibly even a little fatter.

“Remind me to hide out among the titans if ever I feel compelled to run away as a heretic,” Dahveed said with wry humor, “as this fellow doesn’t seem to have suffered much in his life as a fugitive.”

“Their scraps are enough to fill a table for us,” Xem said with quiet awe. “What do you suppose they eat?”

“Their own dead,” Grinnd said, causing every head to swivel to him. The imperturbable warrior shrugged, keeping the body of Enoch, the heretic, perfectly balanced as he did so. “A variety of the large animals that live here in the southern lands. Dragons, when possible. Elves occasionally, or whatever of our smaller northern kind comes this way, but that’s more of a lesson; we’re far too insubstantial to make a meal for them.” He wore an expression that told Terian instantly that he was not lying, that he’d read it somewhere reliable.

There was a sort of deep quiet, and Bowe turned to Amenon. “Shall we leave, my lord?”

“We have our duty to tend to,” Amenon said stiffly. He waved a hand around the room, at the little piles of things, a few small tomes. “Take everything. The Sovereign will want to know what he knows.” He waved a hand at the inert body lying over Grinnd’s shoulder. “We need to return our prize to Saekaj.” He gave a nod to Bowe, who began to cast a teleportation spell. “So that we can begin the arduous—and painful—last moments of Sert Engoch’s life.”

Chapter 14

They were in a little room in the basement of Terian’s father’s house, in the farthest reaches. It was square and big enough to hold the entire team, plus their prisoner, who was strapped to a table, still unconscious, with a little room to spare. The smell of fear was heavy in the air, and to Terian’s mind it wasn’t that far different from the scent in the streets of Kortran.
A dungeon. He’s had his own dungeon built
.

As if he was reading Terian’s mind, Xem, who stood next to him, shrugged. “When you’ve got to torture as part of your job and you don’t want to have to travel to the palace or gaol to do it …” The slow, audible breathing of the prisoner was the only discernible noise of note, and it overcame all the quiet, ambient sounds that the team was making.

“I remember this whole room being a coal bin when I was a child,” Terian said, looking around the dim, dank room, lit by a single candle.

“Your mother has fresh firewood brought down from the surface every day now,” Amenon said, stepping into the room while letting the door squeak shut behind him. “It’s better for her constitution than that black dust and the thick, heavy smoke.”

“Also, it freed up all this space for your very own torture room,” Terian said with a ring of sarcasm. “Because no manor in Saekaj is really complete without a place to wring the screams out of your enemies.”

“Indeed,” Amenon said with a total lack of irony, “it seems that the men who built it do quite the booming business. Though I hear most who have one use it to keep the servants in line, set an example for them.” He clinked his hand against the chains that secured the heretic to the table. “I had to make sure I got chains adaptable enough to fit any guest we might have, from trolls all the way down to gnomes.” He smiled, and it was horrifying to Terian’s eyes. “They were very accommodating.”

He’s being ghoulish just to unsettle me
, Terian realized.
He’s taking my taunt and throwing it back in my face
. “Do you enjoy torture because it’s part of your duty to the Sovereign, or would you do it gladly even outside of your work?”

Amenon’s face grew impassive, and his hand clinked against the metal table more quickly now. Any amusement that had been present a moment earlier was gone. “We have a task at hand.” He looked over the entire crew, huddled around the walls. “Less is more, I think. All of you save for Terian may go. I have every confidence that your efforts today will please the Sovereign, when I make my report to him.” He nodded once and they began to file out.