Lows and Highs
THE CRYSTAL PALACE had been a palatial royal estate before the war, famed across the Rim for its lavish accommodations and the wild soirees which raged beneath its roof.
Such a facility did not have a dungeon in the Imperial style.
However, it did have several holding cells where the proprietor could lock violent, unruly, or overly intoxicated guests until they cooled off and sobered up.
The rooms were decadent, but gilded scrollwork did not make my cell any less of a prison.
If I had any misconceptions regarding my situation, the armed guards were more than happy to remind me.
I remained on my back as the door swished open, eyes closed, ankles crossed, fingers laced on my chest. Whoever had come to see me didn’t deserve the respect of even a cracked eyelid’s observation.
As the massive hand closed about my neck, I realized I’d been foolish to think I’d have a choice.
The demon guard lifted me bodily from my comfortable cot and slammed me against the wall. My legs kicked out, but without leverage, my blows were weak, and my legs could barely reach the demoness’s chest.
She was a fearsome specimen, much larger and obviously stronger than the Emperor, nearly on par with Ankhelina. Her left arm and cheek were scarred from repeated pain-duels, and she wore the furs of vicious bearcats as a warrior’s skirt and stole.
“So weak. So fragile. I could choke the life from you with such little effort,” the soldier said, a nasty grin curling her lips.
I couldn’t respond. It was all I could do to breathe.
“No wonder Prince Selnikov overthrew her. Look at her choice in lover. I wonder what she sees in him?” the guard pondered.
“Maybe he’s a spirited fuck,” another guard, this one male, replied. “Much can be overlooked if he brings the right pressure to bear against the right places.”
The guard holding me purred, lascivious and laughing. “Is that it, little man? Were you good in bed with her? Would you be good to me?” Against my wishes, the demoness pressed her torso against my body, her lips against mine.
I did not twist my head away. It would be pointless with her thumb keeping my head aligned. However, I had enough freedom to bite her as hard as I could.
I had the satisfaction of seeing the guard’s eyes fly wide, then she withdrew in a spray of blood.
I expected a blow, but the guard and her companions merely laughed.
“Such spirit,” the one holding my throat said, her voice full of mockery as she wiped blood from her mangled lip. “Maybe he has some worth after all.”
One of the other guards said something, but I wasn’t listening.
The demoness holding me transferred the pressure from my throat to my collarbone, and that gave me leverage.
Decade-old close-combat classes flooded my memory, exercises I had practiced with Astrid flashed in my mind.
I thrust out from the wall, swinging my legs up to bring my heel down into her elbow with all my weight and as much strength as I could muster.
The Imp cried out, more in shock than pain as her arm buckled.
I fell to the floor, curled, landed on my shoulder and rolled.
To my surprise, I rose on my heels, an instinctive maneuver I could not have managed if I’d meant to do it.
Regardless, I crouched below my attacker, her legs spread in a wide stance.
Without thinking, I lunged upwards, driving a vicious uppercut directly into her groin.
Comedies often show a man suffering from a swift kick to the nuts, but women have the same number of nerve endings in that region.
It may be harder to hit since they lack the dangly bits, but a solid blow to the groin will incapacitate any foe, regardless of gender and despite the presence of shields.
The guard fell to her knees, and I went for her zeroblade dirk. I heard the metallic clicks of a quarter-score’s lancers cocking, and knew I was dead.
“Halt!” a high, feminine voice yelled in badly accented Imperial.
I paused, the demon guard’s oversized dirk clumsily pointed against her back, my hand yanking back her hair, my body hidden from the other demons’ fire by hers.
I couldn’t see who had called the command, but I could hear from the relative silence that the demons had obeyed her.
“Put up your weapons. There’s no need for that here,” the woman said in Commonwealth Basic. The silence indicated the demons’ hesitation, as did the woman’s impatient ‘hem-hem.’ It was only after a brief shuffling I heard the woman’s heels clack imperiously on the stone floor.
“What’s going on here?” Lady d’Lyre asked.
“The prisoner attacked our guard,” a soldier replied, his voice thick as he spoke around his oversized fangs.
“And why was a guard in the cell to be attacked? Did not Prince Selnikov order you to leave the former Consort unharmed?” Lady d’Lyre replied. An uncomfortable silence followed. I could imagine all too clearly Bridgette’s raised eyebrow, her contemptuous smile.
“Captain Boylan, please release the Imperial sergeant,” Lady d’Lyre called.
Anger flared inside me, and I nearly ran the demoness through out of sheer spite. Instead, I called back, “Her body is the only protection I have. I’ll not let it walk away without return.”
“You have my word you will not be harmed,” Lady d’Lyre said.
I snarled. “You forget: I know how little your word is worth.”
Bridgette’s tittering laughter nearly sent me over the edge.
“Captain, you know as well as I these guards will shoot down their comrade rather than let you leave. Let her go, and they’ll let you live.
Keep hold of her, and you’ll die before I can save you.
Call me romantic, but I rather like you, and I’d hate to see you die in a jail cell. I’m sentimental like that.”
I hesitated, wondering if I could trust her.
As my brain ran through the possibilities, I knew I had none.
I couldn’t hope to drag a four-hundred-kilogram demon soldier at sword point.
Eventually, she’d overpower me, and I’d be dead.
If I stabbed her, her comrades would open fire, and I’d be dead.
If I ran for it, they would run me down, and I’d be dead.
I was still as much a prisoner as when the force screens were active and the lamiglass door shut, only I could decide if I died alone or took an Imp with me as I went.
I was tempted to end the charade now in a blaze of glory, but my sense of self-preservation was too strong.
I released the demoness’s hair and stepped back, throwing her short sword to the floor and raising my hands in supplication.
The guard’s reaction was immediate. She spun around and hammer-fisted me across the cheek. I felt something give, and I flew into the wall before collapsing.
Lady d’Lyre screeched, “I said he was not to be harmed.”
“We don’t take orders from you,” the female guard hissed.
“But you do take orders from Prince Selnikov, do you not? I happen to know the future Emperor will not be pleased to know you disregarded his orders.” I rolled over to see Lady d’Lyre, standing prim and proper, staring down demon soldiers twice her size.
Apparently, she saw some threat in their eyes, as she spoke again.
“I also know you have orders to leave me unharmed. How will you explain if I wind up bloodied, much less dead? I imagine Selnikov will have your heads.”
The threat did its work, as Lady d’Lyre flounced her way to me and knelt at my side, gently caressing my bruised cheekbone. “Oh, my dear Captain. You always have to make things so hard on yourself.”
I coughed, spitting up warm salty blood. “Funny. I thought it was you and the Imps making things hard on me.”
“You always need to swim against the current. Just accept the way things are and go with the flow,” Bridgette said. For a moment, I imagined I saw real concern in her eyes, but a treacherous snake such as she couldn’t possibly have any real concern for the tool they’d used.
“I promised my Queen and my country I would always strive to do the right thing,” I murmured, the pain catching up to me. I grimaced. “No one ever said it would be easy or painless or popular. That doesn’t mean it’s not right.”
Lady d’Lyre’s hand rested tenderly upon my chest. “You always have to be too noble for your own good. You make the rest of us look positively sinful.”
I laughed, only once, though. It fucking hurt to laugh. “I’m no saint. I’ve sinned plenty.”
“But you believe so strongly,” Bridgette said consolingly.
“You truly believe what you are doing is right. Even when you’re wrong, you believe you’re fighting for a good cause.
It’s blinding sometimes, and very endearing.
How could I let so fervent a believer die at the hands of such heathens as these?
” Lady d’Lyre said, gesturing at the armed demons behind her.
I had no response for her.
“On your feet, soldier,” Lady d’Lyre said, not bothering to offer me a hand up.
I collapsed back onto the cold floor. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather die here than be moved to a more formal location.”
Lady d’Lyre tittered again. “Silly, you’re not going to be executed. You are to be exchanged to your own government. They want you back. I arranged the deal myself.”
I figured there was little to lose, so I levered myself onto my knees and lurched to my feet.
Pleased, Lady d’Lyre extended her arm. As physically battered and spiritually weary as I felt, I took her hand in mine and let her gently lead me from the prison block into the corridors of the Crystal Palace proper.
We walked in silence for a while, but Lady d’Lyre felt the need to speak. “So solemn, Captain. You’re going home. Why the long face?”
“You should know. You had a leading hand in destroying my nation, despite my best efforts,” I said bitterly.
Lady d’Lyre laughed. “You mustn’t be so hard on yourself. You made a valiant show of resistance, but honestly, did you think I had no backup plan in place?”