41. Zarek
Zarek
SO MUCH FOR THE SNAKE OF VSENROG
Lilias screams.
By the time I realize the sounds are coming from her, I’m already on my feet and kneeling at her side. Tears pour down her cheeks, cutting clear tracks through the dust on her face. Her eyes are wide, and she’s shaking her head.
“No,” she whispers. “No, Zarek. He can’t have you.”
“Shhhhh,” I reply. I cup her face in my palm, wiping her tears with my thumb. “It’s okay,” I lie. “It’s all okay.”
I wrap my arms around her shoulders as she sobs, and I try to ignore the sound of footsteps behind me.
“Interesting,” Varitan says from above me, like he’s observing an unusual insect.
He leans forward, reaching over my head. My body stiffens, ready to fight. His long, pale fingers brush the back of Lilias’s dress. And she slumps forward in my arms.
Rage explodes inside my body.
I leap to my feet, daggers in both my hands. Varitan moves faster than I would have expected; he’s dancing away from me, even as I dive forward. Grit and dust swirl in the air between us. Screams and sobs echo across the balcony.
The two remaining guards lunge forward. I evade the first one, but the second lands a blow on my back that slows me down. I cough, spin, search for Varitan. The first guard grabs for my arm and meets my blade instead. He hisses and backs away as blood swells across the back of his hand.
“Stop,” Malrik declares.
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
Lilias lies motionless across the stones of the balcony, her dress and hair spread out beneath her.
King Malrik stands above her. With a sword. Pointed at her throat.
“She’s not dead,” Malrik says. “Not yet. Not if you behave.”
My daggers make a hollow metal clang as they hit the ground. Slowly, I lift my hands above my head.
“That’s better,” Malrik says. “Now, Zarek. Listen to the nice man’s offer.”
“He’s not a man,” I growl.
Varitan raises a pale eyebrow. He looks at Lilias, then back to me.
“Interesting,” he says again.
Malrik turns to the elf.
“You sure you want him?” Malrik asks, gesturing at me like I’m a hog in the marketplace.
“I’m sure,” Varitan replies.
Malrik frowns. For a long moment, neither of them speak. I stare at Lilias, my heart racing, my eyes burning. Slowly, very slowly, her chest rises and falls.
Not dead. I cling to the slow rise and fall of her chest like a drowning man clinging to the wreckage of his ship. She’s breathing. She’s not dead. Not yet.
“He murdered my son,” Malrik finally says.
“I am aware of that,” Varitan answers.
“Well, he has to answer for it,” Malrik replies. “Publicly.”
Varitan tilts his head to the side. “Look at it this way,” he says. “What’s more useful to your majesty? A corpse to display in your courtyard, or an even stronger weapon to wield against your enemies?”
Below the balcony, someone begins to sob. It’s high and loud, almost indistinguishable from screaming.
“Hells,” Malrik says with a frown. “I suppose torture’s as good a story as execution. We can do something for the crowds, right?”
Varitan gives him a cold smile. “It would be my pleasure,” he says.
Malrik shrugs. And just like that, my fate is decided.
“And the woman?” Malrik asks, as if the thought just occurred to him.
My breath stops.
“He’s in love with her,” Malrik continues, turning to me with a strange gleam in his eyes. “Aren’t you, snake?”
I can’t speak. The world seems frozen, pressed behind glass.
“She lied to him, betrayed him,” Malrik continues. “And still, she’s got that idiot by the balls.”
He shakes his head; once again, I’ve disappointed the king of Vsenrog.
Weak, my mind whispers. Always so weak.
“So much for the snake of Vsenrog,” Malrik says.
Varitan makes a noise in his throat that suggests he finds this entire conversation rather dull.
“I don’t want to be responsible for two of them,” Varitan says. “And she does have another husband, no?”
Malrik nods. My chest burns; I feel like I’m drowning.
“If you could keep the woman somewhere close,” Varitan adds. “In case he needs a bit of…motivation.”
“Sure, sure,” Malrik says, with a flap of his hand. He’s already moved on to more important matters than the life or death of the woman I love.
Varitan gives me another sharp, empty smile. My lips peel back in a growl.
“Come here, boy,” Varitan says.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
Varitan turns slowly, so he’s facing Lilias.
And then he kicks her.
I scream as the dull thud of his boot hitting my wife’s stomach echoes across the balcony. She moans in her sleep; her brow contracts, like she’s having another nightmare. Varitan turns to me with a gleam in his pale eyes.
“Come here,” he says again. “Boy.”
I clench my hands into fists and walk to the elf.
“Wonderful,” Varitan says. “Now, give me your hand. I’m going to knock you out as well, so we can transport you with fewer complications.”
I glance down at Lilias. Her hair is streaked with soot and dust, and I can only imagine the bruise she’ll have on her ribs where this monster kicked her.
But she’s still alive. And, gods help me, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her that way.
I hold my hand out to the monster.