Betrayer's Bane Read online

  Tyrion handed him over, but his symptoms did not subside. With every shriek from the young boy he heard a different voice, Ailayana’s. Her torment echoed through his mind, her voice sounding the same cry of agony. She had died in terrible pain and now he felt it in his bones.

  It was the same horror he had felt once at Thillmarius’ hand, when he had been punished for rebelling. Eldin yelled and Ailayana screamed simultaneously in his heart, but it was the pain of his own tortures that burned through his nerves. Tyrion was shaking uncontrollably now. Bending over he began to vomit before eventually dropping to his knees beside the dead wasp.

  He emptied his stomach but his belly continued to heave until it ached from the strain on his abdominal muscles. When it finally relaxed he fell to one side, staring sideways at the crushed insect beside him. Alien eyes, dead and devoid of emotion stared back at him and the world grew dark.

  It was death returning his gaze, and it was coming for him.

  Sweating, he closed his eyes, but he could still feel it there, watching him. His evil had called it, his actions, his guilt had summoned it, and it would kill them all. Everyone would pay the price for what he had done.

  Eldin’s screams were all he could hear as the cold world faded away.

  Chapter 14

  He awoke in darkness, but he knew immediately it was his own bed, though he didn’t remember lying down.

  Tyrion was naked, which wasn’t unusual when he slept, but his magesight had already noted that his leathers weren’t hanging from their usual peg on the wall. Kate lay beside him, asleep.

  Was I dreaming?

  As the sleep fog faded he was certain that wasn’t the case. They must have brought him to his room after he collapsed. He tried not to think of the moments before that, his hand started shaking once more as he recalled Eldin’s cry.

  Why is this affecting me like this? He couldn’t remember having a reaction like this before. It was similar to how he felt whenever he thought about his ‘punishments’ under Thillmarius’ instruction, which was something he made a point to never think about. Normally those memories never bothered him, except in dreams, or during the rare occasions he was forced to meet with the Prathion lore-warden.

  His mind had betrayed him. He was breaking down. Another consequence of the loshti? he wondered, or was it really because of what I did to that She’Har woman? That thought brought a new wave of nausea to him.

  Goddamn it! I can’t afford to be weak!

  He was strong. He knew that. No one survived years in the arena without becoming accustomed to blood and violence. He had done things no sane man would consider, and done them with aplomb. Whatever weakness existed in him should have died a slow death years ago.

  Even I know that I am mad.

  But perhaps madness did not preclude suffering. More likely it insures it, he thought.

  “Daniel?” whispered Kate. “Are you awake?”

  “I think so,” he answered wryly. “What did you do with my leathers?”

  “You rolled into the vomit after you passed out,” she explained. “I cleaned them. They’re hanging outside.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What happened?”

  He realized he was holding his breath and he let it out slowly, “I’m not sure. What did you tell the others?”

  Kate stroked the side of his head gently with her hand, pulling it close and setting her cheek beside his, “That you were sick. I didn’t know what else to say.”

  Sliding his arm around her shoulder he pulled her close, but the warmth of her didn’t seem to penetrate the cold emptiness of his solitude. His body was still, but within he felt his soul shivering, as though a chill lived inside his heart. “That’s close enough to the truth,” he said after a moment.

  “You were crying earlier,” she added.

  He could feel her eyes on him although he knew she couldn’t really see him in the dark. “I don’t remember that. Did they see me?”

  “It was after I had you put in bed,” she reassured him. “Do you know why you were crying?”

  “I don’t remember anything after I passed out, but when you consider the life I’ve lived I’m sure there are plenty of things I could have been dreaming about,” he said, dissembling.

  “You kept mumbling things. You said a name several times…,” added Kate, “…a woman’s name.”

  He tried to laugh, but it wasn’t very convincing, “Which one?” His brow felt cold and clammy. Had he been dreaming of Ailayana?

  “Amarah.”

  Tyrion felt two things at once when she said that, a faint rush of relief and the dull throb of an old hurt. “I told you about her.”

  “Not much,” said Kate. “You said she was a slave when you lived in Ellentrea, that you cared for her, and that she died. You never told me much more than that.”

  “That was the gist of it,” he said bluntly. “Are you jealous?”

  Kate chuffed, “You know me better than that, but I think you should tell me the story.”

  “Why?”

  “You collapsed today. You need to talk to someone. Is there anyone else you can talk to?” There was an edge to her last question.

  Kate might not be jealous of his past dalliances, but she would be hurt if he dodged her question by claiming he would bare his pain to someone else. And in truth, there wasn’t. Lyra would listen, but she wouldn’t understand, not fully. He sighed, “You have me there.”

  “Did she die in the arena?” asked Kate. “You weren’t forced to…”

  “No,” he interrupted. “It wasn’t like what happened to Brigid. She was one of the nameless, a servant. She never had to fight in the arena.”

  “A nameless with a name?”

  “I gave it to her,” he replied. His voice was growing thick. He hadn’t expected to react to the memory so quickly. “I tormented her at first, pretending to name her. She brought my food every day, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I was desperate for conversation back then. I was being kept in complete isolation. Sometimes she was the only other human being I would see for a week or more, and that for only a few minutes each day.”

  “And then?”

  “Eventually we became lovers.”

  He wanted to stop there, but Kate’s soft voice prodded him in the dark, “Just lovers, or were you in love?”

  “I was in love, although at first I just considered it a product of my desperation and loneliness. She was the only light I had during that dark time, but I didn’t believe she was capable of feeling love herself.”

  “You’ve always said love is almost impossible for the people in the slave camps,” agreed Kate. “You’ve remarked the same about Layla numerous times, but I’m sure she feels it. She dotes on her son in her own rough way, and I’ve seen the light in her eyes when she looks at you. Do you think Amarah loved you too?”

  “She never said so,” he answered, keeping his words short as the tears ran down his cheeks in the darkness. “One of the She’Har trainers killed her, one of the Gaelyn Grove. She tried to cover me, to protect me. She thanked me for her name before she died.”

  Kate’s hand was on his cheek, “She did love you, and you avenged her death.”

  He shook his head, “No. No, I didn’t. I killed Syllerond, but I didn’t avenge her. She died protecting me, not the other way around. Syllerond was a villain that day, but he wasn’t the problem. It was everything the She’Har did to humanity, long before Syllerond showed up. She won’t be avenged until I’ve corrected that.”

  “You’re just one man, Daniel.”

  “No, I’m not. I have power that would have been beyond my belief when we were young. I have knowledge that will lead to even more, and I have children who will carry the standard forward even if I fall. I will reshape this rotten world, or die trying,” he said defiantly.

  “Or we will die trying,” Kate corrected. “Don’t forget that. The consequences of your actions will fall on all of us.”

  “I haven’t forgo
tten.”

  “Is peace so impossible?” she asked. “Isn’t it possible to find a way beyond the hatred and wrongs of the past? I think we could coexist with them. Think about Lyra.”

  “It will be on our terms this time,” growled Tyrion. “Not because they’ve granted us the right to exist, but because they have no choice but to work with us if they wish to survive.”

  Kate sighed, “That doesn’t sound very diplomatic. What about the Illeniels? They have done nothing but help you. You said yourself that the loshti couldn’t have been stolen. They never kept slaves either. Will you lump them into the same boat with the other groves?”

  “They carry more blame than the other four groves put together,” he said bitterly. “They knew what they were doing. They were not ignorant. That is why they didn’t keep slaves. They knew it was wrong. They had already seen the outcome, yet they did nothing to educate the other groves. Their silence was their sin.

  “And it goes beyond silence too. They brought the She’Har to this world. They couldn’t see the outcome until they arrived, but once they were here, they pushed forward with the others in destroying our civilization. They did it knowing what would happen. None of the other groves understood, but they did, and they did it anyway. Their refusal to keep slaves was an empty gesture to assuage their guilty conscience.

  “The only reason they have helped me, is because they want me to do something. They will do anything to survive, and for some reason I am key to that. Otherwise they would have wiped us out long ago. Never forget that. All of this was the result of cold calculation. Don’t make the mistake of ascribing their actions to some ideal of noble responsibility.”

  Kate nodded in the dark, “Then what hope do you have of defeating such knowledge. If they already know everything they will have accounted for anything you may do. Wouldn’t it be wiser to work with them? At least you could benefit our people, since they need you so much.”

  “They don’t know everything,” said Tyrion. “You may be right. I may not be able to subvert their plan, but I can make sure it costs them more than they hoped. If the She’Har survive, I will do everything possible to make sure it is at the feet of humanity, and if that is not acceptable to them I will see them all damned!” He was getting worked up and his last words were nearly a shout.

  “And that is why you collapsed when you saw your son crying?” asked Kate softly. “Is that why you dreamt of a woman that died trying to help you? I know you better than that. A fight wouldn’t unsettle you like this. What are you doing that could have disturbed you that much?”

  “Sacrifices have to be made,” he growled.

  “How many of us are you willing to sacrifice?” she asked pointedly.

  “As many as necessary,” he admitted, “but I intend to make sure most of the sacrifices are theirs.”

  ***

  Suelynna and Taylok were forced to breathe deeply to get enough air into their lungs. The altitude was such that their hike was much more difficult than it might otherwise have been, but that was why they had done it, for the challenge.

  Plus, there was a lake near the upper portion of the mountain that was a delight to see. They and several others went there occasionally to enjoy the view. Of course, they could have simply teleported, since they were members of the Mordan Grove, but that would have defeated the point of the trip.

  The journey was half the reward, despite the strenuous demands of walking up the mountain.

  “Look at these flowers, Suelynna!” said Taylok, having spotted some purple blossoms he hadn’t noticed before, but he got no response.

  Suelynna was gone, vanished, and he could find her with neither his eyes nor his magesight. Taylok straightened up and looked around, puzzled. Vanishing was not unusual for his people, but he hadn’t felt any aythar moving, nor could he imagine why she had teleported without saying something to him first.

  He expanded his senses, searching for predators. The only reason he could imagine that she might have teleported suddenly was if they had been at risk of sudden attack.

  Not that a big cat or a bear would have been a real threat to them, but Suelynna preferred not to harm wildlife. She would avoid a confrontation rather than hurt a baratt. Still, they could have merely protected themselves. Nothing here was so dangerous that she would have to teleport.

  He searched farther with his mind, hoping to spot her farther down the trail, or above, but he found nothing. Taylok took several steps, walking up the trail. Any moment now and she’ll pop back and ask me why I didn’t follow her, he thought. She probably said something about where she was going and didn’t realize I wasn’t listening.

  With his next step the world vanished and he found himself within a small bubble of darkness, cut off from the outside. There were people there and for a split second he saw Suelynna lying on the ground. Then he was falling, and as he fell the world faded. It was with a shock that he realized his torso was no longer connected to his lower body, and then he was gone.

  Brigid’s chain returned, coiling in the air around her body, close but not quite touching her flesh. Blood dripped from the metal that seemed to refuse its presence. In just seconds the metal was clean again, although the dead She’Har’s corpse remained on the ground next to her.

  “Too bad that one was male,” said Tyrion. “I had hoped to get another female.”

  “We can come back tomorrow,” advised Layla. “I doubt the elders will notice their absence for several days.”

  Tyrion nodded, “I’d like to get a few more before we burn our bridges here.”

  “Bridges?” asked Layla, unsure what his statement meant.

  “Once we get our quota a volcanic event will occur,” he explained. “That should cover any possible suspicion regarding the missing She’Har.” Turning to Brangor he ordered, “Take us back, but take the corpse first. We’ll clean up the blood by the time you get back.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said the one-armed mage and a second later he, the She’Har woman, and Brigid were gone.

  Chapter 15

  “What do you think of the bread?” asked Thillmarius, leaning forward.

  Tyrion’s stomach clenched again at the sound of his former tormentor’s voice but he hid the reaction. In truth he couldn’t appreciate any gustatory pleasures in the presence of his old trainer, but he lied anyway, “It’s decent. Where did you get it? I’ve never seen your people eat anything other than Calmuth and simple vegetables.”

  The Prathion She’Har smiled, “Lyralliantha told me about your people’s culinary prowess last year and it sparked my curiosity. I did some preliminary research but all my efforts still proved to be failures. Eventually it was with the kind help of a lady in the town you call Lincoln that I was able to learn the art of making it.”

  Tyrion’s brows shot up, “You made this yourself?”

  “A friend, Tyvar, helped me, but the most of the effort was my own,” replied the lore-warden with barely concealed pride. “I have made it several times now and it has become very popular among the Prathions.”

  The look on Tyrion’s face said it all.

  “You didn’t think I could do something like this?” observed Thillmarius quizzically.

  Tyrion nodded, “I don’t mean to offend, but no. I assumed you would have had servants do such things if you were interested in them.”

  “We have no servants.”

  “You used to have slaves.”

  Thillmarius grimaced, “We did, but even then we would not have used them for something like this. You remember my old profession, but we never used the people of Ellentrea for anything other than the arena and patrolling. Even if I had had such an interest then I would have done this myself. The people of Ellentrea were not very—delicate.”

  “But they did prepare food,” noted Tyrion.

  “Only for each other, not for us,” explained the She’Har.

  Because it tasted awful, thought Tyrion. It didn’t take him long to summon memories of the terrible
fare he had endured while a slave in Ellentrea. “Surely there were other She’Har you could have enlisted to take on a task like this for you,” he suggested.

  “Among the children of the She’Har status means little and we have never made an occupation of food preparation the way your people have,” said Thillmarius. “I am thinking of creating a social club here, for others of my kind who are interested in making foods like this. I believe your people would have called such a thing a ‘restaurant’.”

  From slave master to cook, thought Tyrion. This world never ceases to amaze me.

  They spoke for a while longer about human culture, particularly with regard to food, but the entire while Tyrion wondered at the Prathion’s true purpose in calling him out. They were high atop one of the trees in the Prathion Grove, on a platform that he could only assume was Thillmarius’ home. As always, being near the lore-warden was a profoundly uncomfortable experience for him.

  He had come at Thillmarius’ invitation, but he doubted that the true reason for that was just to try the man’s baked goods.

  “Tyrion?”

  He had lost track of the conversation. “I’m sorry. I got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”

  “I asked if you had heard about the disaster.”

  Tyrion’s pulse sped up, but he controlled his breathing. It felt as though he was about to be interrogated again. Images of the table that Thillmarius had once restrained him on appeared in his mind. “Disaster?”

  “There was a volcanic eruption. Part of the Mordan Grove was destroyed last month,” said Thillmarius, watching him intently.

  He feigned surprise, “Here?”

  “No, across the ocean, an area they control on another continent,” explained his host.

  “Lyralliantha mentioned something about it, but she had to help me with the geography. Before that I didn’t realize there were other lands beyond the ocean,” lied Tyrion. “How bad was this eruption?”