Chapter 12
Once recovered enough to feign completion of the dreadful task Dulanzo had given me, I trudged up to the bastard’s study, freshly bathed and haggard. I could have pretended my heart was heavy for having slit the throats of my pupils, but nothing was going to sell the completion more than his alleged detection of bonds.
I knocked and was told to enter. Dulanzo sat at his desk, bottle of wine open and already halfway consumed. His hair was loose of its braid for once and he was somewhat disheveled. It was odd to see him so relaxed.
“I have to admit,” he said before I could greet him, “I didn’t think you could do it. Those pups were practically your own children.”
“One can love nothing in Irnon’s shadow,” I said with a sigh.
Dulanzo gestured for me to sit down, even pouring a glass of wine for me though he had to know I wouldn’t touch it.
“You monster,” he chuckled.
“Because you made me that way,” I said as I settled in the chair opposite him.
“How did you do it?” He asked with a malicious glint in his eyes.
“I beat them with a cane before slitting their throats,” I said with a frown and a shrug. He gave me a disapproving look. I sneered in return. “They were children, it didn’t take much to frighten or hurt them.”
“Too, soft.” He spat the words.
“Next time, do it yourself instead of ordering the elf that thinks of the pups as his own to do your dirty work,” I challenged him
Dulanzo grinned. “One of these days, I’ll find the right way to break your insolent ways.”
“I doubt it.” I was very tired of his bullshit. “You raised me to be an insolent little shit and made me your right hand so you could enjoy ...” my words trailed off because I didn’t quite know what this was between us, so I gestured vaguely at him.
Once I had been his counterbalance. He’d occasionally get caught up in peculiar behavior that he considered decadent, and I’d be the one to bring him back to reality. While I could hardly cast stones over odd fixations, he no longer wanted to be reined in. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly when that shift started to happen, but I’m almost certain it was after he’d taken on the power this mountain had to offer. He felt untouchable after the city stopped having influence over him.
“I’ve decided to hold off on the grain raid,” Dulanzo said with a frown. “We received word recently that the villages to the north have been slow to harvest this year. It appears there are rampant fae beasts that have somehow been displaced from their home in the wilds.”
“Hmm.” It would be prudent to wait for them to harvest. We’d not spend the manpower to do it ourselves, but we relied on these villages for supplies to send back to the city. Some we raided; some we traded protection. “We may have to do something about these beasts if they’re going to delay supplies.”
“I’ve already sent a hunting party.” He nodded. “Because who will grow the food if not my vassals?”
“Ah, good. I will be interested in hearing their report.” Then I met his eyes. “Anything else? I have my regular duties to attend to.”
“Ah, yes,” Dulanzo said, brightening as though he’d just remembered something exciting. “You’ll need to summon the healer for my little pet. I left her in a bit of a state. She should probably be looked after.”
Fuck!
I grunted in irritation and rose from my seat, unhurried, as if he’d asked me to make sure the larder was full or to debrief a recently returned raiding party. “I’ll see to it,” I sighed and turned to the door.
I did rush to the infirmary to fetch the healer though. Had I known the insane bastard was going to attack her while I dealt with the boys, I’d never have taken so long after seeing their bonds broken. The healer on duty, Bhekna, greeted me with somber eyes.
The infirmary appeared as a simple, spartan space. Clean marble counters, a few cots, a sturdy exam table, and cabinets of all the medicinal supplies someone like Bhekna could need. It always smelled peculiar though. I had no idea what they used to sterilize their tools, but it burned my nose. It was a wonder that any of them had a sense of smell by the end of their shifts.
“Ah, subcommander. You’re here about the casualty?” Bhekna asked.
He was an older elf, starting to gather wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth with fragile looking spectacles perched on the bridge of his beaky nose. Otherwise, he looked much the same as the rest of us.
“No, I’m supposed to tell you to report to the prison wing to look after Dulanzo’s new pet,” I answered stoically. “I wasn’t aware there had been a casualty.” Something cold twisted in my stomach though. This was just too perfectly timed with Dulanzo’s distraction. Why kill two birds with one stone if you can line up three?
Bhekna winced. There were very few in the warband allowed the luxury of empathy and gentleness. They were all healers. Deep down, even Dulanzo knew it was necessary for their craft.
Bhekna lifted his chin to draw my attention to a still, blanket covered form on the exam table a little way behind him.
He’d asked me to kill the boys, I had no doubt he’d raped the woman … Ozanna. There was only one or two other people it could possibly be.
“Subcommander, I’m terribly sorry to be the bearer of such news,” Bhekna shook his head and removed his glasses. “They said a small group of young male orcs wandered too close to our territory. The patrol engaged and …”
I shushed him with a wave of my hand and straightened my spine. There could be no reaction to what I was about to reveal to myself. I crossed the room to loom over the covered corpse and did my best to lock away anything threatening my composure. Dulanzo was undoubtedly listening. I couldn’t give him the reaction he wanted.
He wouldn’t see the tremble of my hand when I reached for the blanket, though. He couldn’t see the twist of my lip or the pained look in my eyes when I revealed soft white curls with a fine spray of dried blood over them. The way I died a little more inside when I saw the ashen skin and pale lips of my lover.
“I don’t suppose he died of an orc’s simitar, did he?” I asked, my voice smooth and calm.
“No, sir,” Bhekna answered, his healer’s eyes observing me carefully. “I am fairly certain it’s the puncture at the back of his neck. It likely severed the spinal cord. I doubt he suffered long if at all.”
“Ah,” I said. It was a pretty standard assassination then. Quick, quiet, efficient. No doubt the assassin was out before the body even hit the ground. “Well, then, off to the prison wing with you.” I sighed. “I’ll be along shortly.”
“Yes, sir,” Bhekna said and moved to gather his treatment bag, though he didn’t leave without resting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze.
I was tired. So fucking tired.
I clenched my jaws before moving to fill a bowl of water and riffle through the cabinets to find a towel. Then I returned to the exam table and stared down at Rhemvile’s body.
I knew this would be his end someday. I’d known it the moment I brought him here for my purposes. To be honest, I hadn’t expected him to live as long as he did. Maybe that lulled me into a false sense of security. The fact that it took over a decade meant that his death was related to my recent fumbling around in waters I hadn’t dared tread before. Once being subcommander had been my endgame. Not just to secure power for myself, but to try and make life a little more bearable for others. It was the highest I could climb without crossing the most powerful elf in the warband. But now Dulanzo was a liability. Unworthy of his position by any standard.
“Wasteful,” I scoffed while staring down at my beautiful simpleton. “Such a waste.”
I don’t know how long I spent running my fingers through his curls, cleaning the blood off his face and throat. I didn’t want to remember him covered in his own blood. Gods, I hadn’t even looked at him when he passed me earlier in the day. No doubt Dourlak would find me later to tell me how this happened, to offer up valid excuses. And I wouldn’t be upset with him. No, the blame for this waste rested between Dulanzo and me.
Rhemvile looked more like himself when I was done cleaning him, his hair a little damp around the face, but otherwise, he was … Rhemvile, just empty of all the things that made him mine. I rolled my lips inward and bit down to stifle the sob that threatened the silence. Tears burned in my eyes. I squeezed them shut too. Once I was in control of myself again, I leaned over and kissed his forehead, mouthing the words I’m sorry against the cool flesh under my lips.
I pulled the blanket over him again. Expendable, replaceable, I reminded myself, just a fucking halfie. Because I had to present myself as the unflappable counterbalance to Dulanzo’s mercurial nature. I had to be the bedrock for all the elves here if I wanted their support. This was an attempt to undermine whatever he thinks I’m planning and for everyone’s sake I couldn’t appear weak.
The scouts came in; new ones went out. I took a brief report from them and in prearranged code, they informed me that Lhoris and Lobikno had been spotted. They would be here at dawn. It was safe to assume that they’d want rest before calling Dulanzo out. I had a little time left to check on Ozanna.
I met Bhekna in the corridor of the prison wing. “How is she?”
Bhekna shook his head and shrugged. “Bruised mostly. A little swelling. Nothing to worry about from the attack. Though the little ones need more feeding. She doesn’t have enough power for one let alone two.”
I didn’t bother concealing my surprise. “Two, you say? Are you certain?”
“I’m afraid so,” he nodded. “I didn’t say anything to the girl though.” He glanced over his shoulder towards her door. “She seems a bit … fragile at the moment.”
“Hardly unusual considering,” I snorted. “I’ll attend the pregnancy before I leave.”
“Good,” he said. “I had little enough to offer the parasites after healing their mother. Have more of your blood kin come down and help with the burden.”
“Thank you, Bhekna,” I nodded.
His eyes went wide, and he gaped at me for a moment. Then he blinked and scrunched up his face, as if he couldn’t recall what he was meant to say in reply. “Yes, well, I do have one unrelated matter to discuss with you before I go. I’m sure I have patients lined up outside the infirmary by now, but I don’t get to speak with you often.” His assessing eyes scanned my face and form. “You’ve lost more weight.”
“I was on the road for over a month, we weren’t exactly banqueting along the way,” I grumbled.
He clucked his tongue and pursed his lips in disapproval. “While I’m sure that didn’t help, none of the others that went on your excursion returned looking any worse for the lack of catering,” he said scornfully. “Whatever you’ve been doing to yourself, I think it’s time to intervene to keep you from deteriorating further.”
I stared down my nose at him with a sneer.
“You don’t scare me, Zelfek,” he drawled. “Save that face for someone that didn’t teach you to piss standing up.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t have time for this!
“The rate you’re going, it won’t be long before you’re too weak to resist force feeding,” the old elf shook his finger in my face. “I’ll shove a hose down your throat. Is that what you want? Hm?”
“No,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck it. Fine, I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
Bhekna huffed a heavy sigh and pushed his glasses back up his nose, though his scowl didn’t fade. “You better, or I’ll come find you.” He narrowed his eyes before adding ominously, “With a hose.”
With a final cluck of his tongue, he turned on his heel and left me to face the next consequence of my actions. Or maybe it was all just actions not taken in time. Dulanzo probably went straight from telling me to kill the boys to Ozanna’s prison. Dourlek wouldn’t have had time to set anything up. Lirraco was at the far end of the hall now, but it was probably all said and done before he’d arrived.
I entered the room and noted that Bhekna had left it unlocked—the sly, kind old fellow.
Ozanna lay huddled under her blankets, mattress on the floor, linens in disarray. The bruises at her throat were already fading thanks to Bhekna’s magic. One eye still a little puffy despite the healing. But there was a listless quality to her face that I hadn’t previously seen. She was, as the aging healer had said, fragile. Or fragile as someone like her could be.
I conjured my light and her face shifted in recognition. Some life returning to it. “I want the boy back,” she blurted. “I gave him a name. Oshruli.”
“Of course,” I agreed, quickly, easily. It was a request I wanted to fulfill. She could take the little one with her. “Perhaps in a couple of hours. Let’s give you time to get cleaned up. Dressed,” I offered. “Then Oshruli can rejoin you.”
“I need more clothes,” she explained. “And the water is too cold to bathe.”
I knew the latter. If she was truly feeling fragile, that kind of chill could make her sick. I had witnessed it many times. A wound of the spirit seemed to be the only thing that left our kind vulnerable to illness, and I wasn’t sure if halfies would be more susceptible. “Of course,” I nodded. “I’ll escort you to the washroom you used upon your arrival.”
“I’d rather not be seen,” she said, her face contorting through a handful expressions in a few moments, too quickly to interpret beyond their negative nature.
“You have my word that I will cloak you in shadow the moment we come upon anyone else,” I swore, my throat tight.
Her brows furrowed over her brown eyes. “Very well,” she agreed with a shiver.
I made sure the blanket covered her before escorting her through the corridor, “What did the healer tell you?”
The pile of blanket around her shoulders shifted up a little in a shrug. “Probably the same he told you. Bruises, swelling. Nothing’s broken. The baby is fine.”
There wasn’t anything I could say after that. I could only offer her silent company. A sympathetic silence, though she wouldn’t know it. Perhaps it wasn’t fair that I was taking solace from sharing this walk with someone processing their own misery. But I couldn’t speak of the things weighing on me.
I let her into the washroom and started drawing up a bath for her. I added crushed lavender and oil to the water. She frowned at me though. “I don’t want to smell nice.”
“It’s medicinal, girl,” I explained, though I didn’t need to. “We use it for swelling and it will help keep infection out of any cuts. The scent soothes the nerves.”
“Oh,” she nodded, blushing a little, sinking into the encircling blankets. “I knew that. I just assumed … the wrong intention.”
“I understand,” I nodded. “I’ll go find someone to get you more clothes. I’ll lock the door.” I didn’t explain that I was one of many with the key. This washroom was for me and other officers, but it was out of the way. It didn’t get frequented as often as the communal bath house unless one really needed to tend to aches and relax. “I won’t be gone long.”
When I returned with clothes, she was in the tub reclined and fumbling to get a comb through her hair. Her hands were swollen, the knuckles scabbed over, but her wrists were a faded green, which meant they’d been at least blue before Bhekna had been to see her. I cast a shadow over the surface of the water and held out a hand for the comb. She gave me an odd look and slapped the tool into my hand.
“I didn’t realize how bad the tangles were,” she murmured almost apologetically.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get them,” I said with a gentle voice. “We have an oil for that too.” I retrieved the vial I needed from a cabinet under the dressing table and pulled a stool up to sit behind her, where she’d let the dark brown locks drape over the edge and away from the water. I shucked out of my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. It took a while to work the oil into the massive amount of hair.
“You’re very quiet,” she said after a while. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. My aides and Dulanzo could see to anything that needed me while I hid away. At least I was doing something that could help someone, even though I’d indirectly caused her woes. It wouldn’t cure the powerlessness, but it was something.
“So are you,” I replied.
“But you know why I am,” she snorted indelicately. “I have to wonder about your motives. Because nobody does anything here without one, do they.” And it wasn’t a question either, just a very accurate observation.
I sighed. “I assure you, my motives are extremely selfish, though they only involve seeing to your well-being, nothing more.”
“He knows you didn’t do anything to me the other day.”
“I know,” I answered. “Unfortunately, he made me do something worse today.”
“Something unforgivable?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “Utterly unforgivable.” The words prodding the fury and grief I’d shoved so far down that all I’d been left with was a manageable numbness. “And I dare not speak of it because this care I’m giving you is important, somehow, and it requires a gentle hand.” As if this wayward kindness would fix anything. It wouldn’t restore the natural course of those boys’ journey to adulthood. It wouldn’t bring Rhemvile back. It wouldn’t ingratiate her mates the way sparing her the twisted affections of their brother would have. I failed. And now there were only pieces to be picked up and handled carefully so I didn’t get cut … by the broken edges or blades. I could only implore the Shattered God to show me the way to wield these jagged pieces and rid us of the despot that laid them all at my feet.
I leaned in close to Ozanna’s ear and summoned the thinnest layer of silence I could without drawing attention, and whispered in a seething hiss, “Your mates will make their move in mere hours. We will have our revenge.”
She turned her head, so we were almost nose to nose, my hands resting on her bruised shoulders to keep her from moving too far from the delicate silence I’d woven about our heads. I was braced to fight the surge of lust I anticipated at such closeness, but I was simply too numb to feel it, if it happened at all.
Her eyes were wide, but I saw a spark of ferocity within them. “Tell me. How can I escape and aid them?” she asked in a whisper.
“They have no other option than to call Dulanzo out for a duel,” I explained. “When you hear the great bell, use the lockpicks I know you have.” She twitched in surprise. I grinned, though it was a harsh thing. “The bell will summon everyone to the main cavern, and we shall ascend a staircase to the tunnels that lead to the surface, to meet your mates and witness the duel. Wait as long as you can to follow. The further behind you are, the less likely you will be noticed. But, they will send someone to collect you from the prison, so you can’t wait too long after they’ve split from the rest to follow.”
“They can’t kill him in a duel, Zelfek,” she whispered furiously. “I broke a knife on his flesh.”
It was my turn to be surprised. I’d allied myself with quite a resourceful creature! To not only procure a knife from her prison cell, but actually land the blow, no matter how useless the attempt had been, was impressive.
“They can if he isn’t surrounded by the stone of the mountain,” I hissed. “He’s bound the tutelar spirit of the mountain to himself. He’s left this strong hold a handful of times over the last two hundred years because of it. It’s how he holds power here apart from the city. If your mates can draw him out in a duel, he will be far easier to kill.”
“He can be strangled,” she said, eyes burning. “He can be killed without these games.”
“You don’t understand,” I growled, “he would bring the entire mountain down if we were to attempt it. The walls act as his ears. The very stone beneath our feet tells him where we are if he has a mind to look. The way the spirit’s magic is woven through every granule of stone means he can detect the most subtle magic. Even this thin veil of silence I’ve conjured may be detectable.” I gestured vaguely about our heads. “If we cannot guarantee instant death, he will likely take everyone with him. Unless we get him to leave the power behind.”
“By leaving the fortress,” she groaned unhappily. “You’re sure he will do that for a duel?”
“He’d have no choice,” I confirmed. “I would not wish the treatment you received at his hands on anyone, Ozanna. Believe me. But to free the people here of his rule, I would do worse. Have done worse.”
She eyed me thoughtfully. “I’ve done my fair share of deplorable things for the right reasons.”
I sneered. “Deplorable is easy. Pretending to be decent these few days to gain your trust has been hard,” I thought out loud.
The fury in her eyes gave way to something soft and sad. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case.”
I didn’t know how to interpret that. Did she mean that I wasn’t pretending, or had she intuitively come to some conclusion I wasn’t aware of. Regardless, I didn’t want to know.
I snorted and waved a hand to dismiss the silence, pointing to my ear so she’d understand we weren’t protected anymore. I leaned back and returned to combing her hair.