“Not fast enough.”
I shrugged. “I am my own man and will serve my own ends.”
“No. At some point you will obey, and then you will be mine and serve our ends.” His hand drifted to an amulet that hung around his neck and he turned it idly as he spoke. “What then is going to break you? Not torture. Becoming one of these?” He gestured to the undead lining the room. I didn't look at them. My eyes were fixed on the amulet that he toyed with as he spoke. There was a symbol on it that I thought I recognized but could not place.
The idea of becoming one of the walking corpses that lined the walls turned my stomach but I could not let him see that. I was going to die. It didn't matter how. Face it. Accept it. There was no way out. I would become a spirit and see the world in a different light, I would be free, if changed. “No? Maybe this, then? Jerek!” He said the word with force and intent and I wondered what the word meant. It was a command, an order. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, then a faint whispering came to my ears, one word repeated in a broken pitiful wine. A pearly light swirled softly into being between us and a small, translucent figure formed within it. A misty image of a child writhing, seemingly in torment, its non physical body looked broken in every way I could imagine. “Master master master..” it repeated the same word over and over again, whimpering it between ruined lips.
“Death is no escape.” I didn't look at it but I saw. I'd never imagined anything so evil as what had been done to this spirit. “You may end up serving me thus, if all else fails. Jerek, tell me his weakness,” he commanded the child.
The ethereal child moved close to me, chilling me as it touched and then faded away with a new word coming softly to my ears. “Love, master. Love is his weakness.” With that the spirit child was gone.
“Then we must find what you love, and control it,” Kukran Epthel said softly. “Take him away.”
62
They took me back to the same room, now empty. I paced the chamber, exploring. There was a window and a balcony, light streamed in from cool day beyond and I stepped out into it. For the first time in I didn't know how long I felt a cool, fresh breeze, saw the sun and the sky. Leaning on the balcony rail I looked out over a courtyard. It was almost a thirty foot drop to paving stones that would break my legs for sure. Directly opposite my window beyond the courtyard was an open archway not more than sixty yards distant. In the courtyard and on the flat roofs of the wings to either side there were barbarian warriors on guard. Not much chance of escape. I counted them. Two on each roof. Two at the gate. Two in the courtyard. Other people came and went, some warriors, some soldiers, many civilians, but two guards paced the courtyard, back and forth against the walls, endlessly. Eight guards to watch me climb down and capture me at the bottom. That was if I could climb down. I looked up. Two more stories and a flat roof where there were doubtless more guards. Looking back down, I watched the guards for a while. They were alert, attentive, focused. Maybe at night it would change, I thought, and resolved to look then. For now I enjoyed the freedom of the balcony, the warmth of the sun on my face, the cool breeze drifting across my skin.
I knew now where I was. It was Undralt, as I had supposed. I did not recognize the town but the terrain beyond. I knew where I was now. And I knew that men of the city would be coming to free me. Orthand was out there somewhere, with a legion. And the city was doubtless raising more legions to come and reclaim the north, to put down this enemy and reclaim these lands. They would have a fight on their hands, though; beyond the city walls lay an army encamped all around. Thousands of men. I didn't count, just soaked up the spread of the vast encampment and guessed. Thirty thousand, plus those billeted in the town itself. They would have a fight on their hands, but four legions would be more than enough, and the city could raise those numbers in days. Maybe they already had. Maybe they were already on their way, marching up the north road as we had, yet in numbers sufficient to the task.
The patrons and highest ranking members of the colleges had stone of twenty and thirty carats and more and the knowledge to use them. Nothing could stand against us for long. If four legions were not enough then the patrons would lead eight north. Time would see us prevail and the city would go on. In the meantime I had my own problems to deal with, some of them mental and emotional. Love is his weakness. What on earth did that mean? I didn't love anyone; apart from my mother and sisters, of course. But he was hardly going to send an invitation for them to join us. And even if they were threatened I would not join forces with something as revolting as Kukran Epthel, self styled king, lich, a walking corpse that pretended to virtue. Not wholeheartedly.
I sighed and turned to re-enter my prison. No mistaking it for anything else. Then I hastily turned back. A face had seeped into my awareness but not disturbed my train of thought. I looked again, seeking amongst the people I could see. Looking for the face that had come to mind. Then I found him and shook my head in despair. A one-eyed ugly man with burns on one side of his face and a scar on the other. It was Meran. One of the guards in the square was my freedman, Meran. He saw me. Looked for only a second, then turned away, indifferent. Was everyone I knew destined to serve my enemy? With a heavy heart I turned my back and went into the room. I didn't want to see any more.
The smell of food had assaulted me as soon as I had walked into the room but until now I had been ignoring it. Roast beef, a rich gravy, vegetables. I was hungrier than I had ever been in my life but I didn't trust the food. Thirst and hunger warred in me for a while as I stood over the table trying to think. If it was drugged, what difference did it make? If I didn't drink I would die. Thirst was a pain in my throat and mouth. I needed to drink but still I held back and thought. Tried to think. They could have forced water into me when I was unconscious. If they wanted to drug me I would be drugged. Accepting the rationalization, I gave in, grabbed the pitcher of water and drank. It felt wonderful. Later I ate and slept. There seemed nothing else to do for the moment. I would have to wait and see what their next gambit was before I countered it.
63
In the dream – I knew it was a dream, it had that quality and I recognized it at once – Jocasta came to me.
“Sumto? Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you,” I said turning to her.
We were standing in a garden. I didn't recognize it.
“Don't be afraid,” she said. “I am here.”
“No need to be afraid in a dream.”
She smiled and I realized she was pretty. Not that I had not always thought so, but that at that moment I realized that I wanted her and always had, though she had been even younger than her sister when she and I were betrothed. Orelia and I would have been married when she was sixteen if her family had not changed their minds about me. Orelia had been fourteen when we met, and Jocasta only twelve.
“This is not a dream, Sumto. I am really here and so are you, though that is not what I meant.”
It didn't seem to matter much what she was saying, I was detached, warmly appreciating her presence and her voice. “What do you mean?”
“I am here. Nearby. Not more than a mile from you.”
I smiled. “No. You are safe in the city and I am glad of it.”
She shook her head, coming close, smiling. “I am here, nearby, and this is not a dream.”
“Kukran Epthel sent you, didn't he.” I was suddenly angry. “Jerek told him that you were the one I love and he is seeking to use you against me, or your image, for I know you are not really here. And neither am I. This place does not exist except in my delusional mind. They drugged me, didn't they?”
“Oh, my dear sweet man, what did they do to you?”
Through gritted teeth I answered. “You already know the answer to that.”
She reached up and touched my face, standing close. I did not seem able, or willing, to move. “I do not, and I need to know what they intend. How can I help you if I do not know what they are trying to do?”
