Chapter 6 #2
My stomach spasmed, my ribs cracking. And this time it wasn’t bile. Vomit rose up my throat. But I was unable to lean forward. My vomit had nowhere to go. Some of it stopped in my mouth, but the rest went back down, choking me. I heaved. Sweat coating my face. My stomach was on fire.
I threw up again, choking.
“Myself to fucking Moriel,” the Emperor drawled.
Tears blurred my vision, and I could feel myself getting ready to heave once more. The vomit was in my nose now and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I was faintly aware of the sound of my chains unclasping. My hands fell at my sides. I collapsed to my knees, just as it came up again. My guts spewed across the ground as the Emperor stepped out of range, keeping his black leather boots clean.
I coughed, and spat, still heaving up everything inside of me. The taste of throw up was coating my tongue, and the horrid scent was plastered inside my nostrils.
The Bastardmaker released Galen’s mouth, and patted him on the cheek. Fresh tears fell from Galen’s eyes, his mouth quivering before he sealed his lips shut.
“Why?” I gasped. “Why would you do that?”
“Tristan, Tristan,” the Emperor said. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“He did what you asked him to. What you wanted.”
“What I wanted? Tristan, do we need to go over this again? I did nothing. I am grieving for my uncle. Hold your tongue.”
“Why! Are you going to cut mine out, too?” I asked.
“You didn’t murder my uncle, did you?” he asked. “But I do need to punish you. You’ve really disappointed me these last few days. These last few weeks. After all these years, all the investments I made into training you.” He snapped at the Bastardmaker. “Bring him some water.”
I eyed Galen, terrified. My feet were still shackled. And I was still bound.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed.
Galen shook his head, and looked away.
A silver goblet was shoved into my hand. “Drink,” the Emperor commanded.
I filled my mouth, washing the taste of vomit from it. I spat the first mouthful to the side and then drank deeply, feeling the coolness of the water as it traveled down my burning throat.
I was given a wet towel and used it to wipe my face. Then I blew my nose. Snot and other awful things came out. I coughed again, still feeling sick.
“I thought you’d be my star pupil,” he said.
“After all, you were so eager. So open to learning, to being trained. And why wouldn’t you be?
You hailed from the educational jewel of the Empire.
You said you wanted to fight alongside me.
You told me so yourself as a young boy, you felt called to protect the vulnerable.
You wanted to make sure no one suffered again what you had—make sure no one would be torn apart by a rogue, violent vorakh,” he growled.
“And what did I do? I taught you. I supported you. I gave you all the tools you needed. And how did you repay me?” he yelled.
I was shaking too hard to answer. I could see myself at nineteen, so eager to learn.
Standing in the grass outside of the Grey Villa, watching with intent as the Imperator’s mage showed me how to capture vorakh, how to hunt them down.
And all the while, the Imperator watched, a dark gleam in his eyes I hadn’t understood at the time.
“Huh? How did you repay me?” He stomped down on my hand and ground his heel into its center.
Bones cracked.
I screamed.
The Emperor kneeled before me, taking my chin in his hand, squeezing so hard I thought my jaw would snap.
“You squandered the opportunity I offered you. Freed dangerous vorakh, freed murderers,” he pointed at Galen, “and then as if that weren’t enough, you absconded with the vilest forsworn scum of the Empire.
” He shook his head. “Where,” he threw my head back, “were your loyalties?”
“I’m sorry,” I cried, scrambling to sit, cradling my broken hand to my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
This time the Emperor stalked toward Galen.
“No,” I said. “No, don’t!”
“I said, shut up!” He smiled then, the most evil, wolfish looking grin I’d ever seen as he looked between me and Galen.
Something inside me went cold—a terror I hadn’t known since I was three. Since I was trapped in the cupboard, helpless as my mother fought against the vorakh that would kill her.
“You hear?” he asked. “You hear how your friend knows his place? How he knows now to be silent. Because he knew that the moment he put his blade inside my uncle’s belly, inside your Emperor’s stomach, that he no longer had a say in his life.” He pulled out his dagger.
I opened my mouth to scream, but the Emperor’s eyes widened in warning.
I closed my mouth, and he nodded. Then he turned his blade, striking Galen in the stomach with the hilt.
Galen paled, his mouth forming a soundless O, as his body convulsed.
“Now, here’s how this is going to work. I’m more than aware of your treachery, your treason.
But luckily for you, I still need you. Your face.
Your position. You have a job to do.” He walked back toward me, keys jangling in his hand.
“I need you to prove yourself to me. See—I trusted you before. And I was wrong. I need you to show me I won’t be wrong a second time. ”
He reached behind me, one ankle freed. A moment later the next. And somehow that was worse. An acknowledgment that I wouldn’t be free. That I couldn’t run, because I was too weak, too injured. That no one was coming. No one would save us this time.
“Well? Ready to prove yourself?” the Emperor asked.
I shook my head. “Why would I prove anything to you?”
The Emperor frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he shared a look with his brother. “I can think of several reasons. Keeping your tongue. Keeping your cock.”
I shuddered. Then he shrugged. “How about keeping your friend alive?”
Galen shook his head, his eyes wide. I knew that look. He didn’t want me to agree. No more bargains. No more deals with a demon. But it was his life. And if there was the smallest chance that I could do it, could buy him time, I would.
I lifted my eyebrows, trying to explain. To tell him I had to. That he was worth it. That I’d take the risk, accept the pain, if I could save him. All this time, all I wanted was to save him.
Galen frowned seeing the decision in my eyes, and shook his head one more time. Just once more. I met the Emperor’s cold eyes. “What do I do?”
“Take off your shirt,” the Emperor purred.
“What?” I asked, a knot in my belly.
“I said,” his aura flared, nearly blasting me back against the wall, “take off your shirt.”
It was like ice had been injected into my veins.
Every part of me was going cold—every limb shaking with fear.
I tried not to think about it. What it meant, what was going to happen.
Only the logistics. Because I could barely do it with a broken hand.
Even with my good hand I was too injured, too sore all the way down my arm.
I tried to grab my shirt and lift. I didn’t even make it to my chest before agony shot through my muscles and my hand fell down.
I gritted my teeth, a moan of pain escaping my lips as I did it again.
Fuck. I started to cry, unable to stop myself.
My right hand was destroyed. And my arms barely had the strength.
A sob wracked my body as I gripped my shirt again with my left hand, and lifted, pushing past the pain, lights exploding in my eyes as I lifted my arm over my head.
Sweat broke out around my neck as I tugged and twisted, trying to push my head out of the material. It took me a full minute. But it was off. I dropped it on the floor and swayed for a moment, fearful I’d faint again. The thing was covered in blood, dirt, sweat, and vomit.
“Good boy,” he said. “Now,” he stepped back, and pointed at the floor. “Crawl.”
“But my hand—”
“I said, crawl.”
I sank to my knees, and used my left hand, and right elbow. “Ah,” I cried out.
Galen made a pathetic moan in response, like he was trying to tell me no, trying to tell me to stop.
I wanted to. Fuck, it hurt so much to move my hand, to put any weight on my arms. But I lifted my knee, and thought of Galen smiling.
Of us getting out of here. Finding a healer, the best in the Empire.
Someone who could help him, who could fix this.
Then I lifted my elbow, seeing us on the beach, splashing in the water.
I moved my knee again, and saw Galen trying beer for the first time and grinning as I’d spat mine out.
Another elbow. Galen confessed his feelings for Haleika to me.
And I hugged him, wanting them to be together.
They kept coming, images of Galen before, happy and healthy.
Images of Galen after—healed, alive. I crawled and crawled, my stomach turning.
I was a shivering, sweating mess by the time I reached his boots.
“Now kiss them,” he said.
So I did. Leaning down and kissing each one. There was still vomit on my tongue. But now there was sweat and specks of dirt caked to my lips.
“They’re a little dirty,” the Bastardmaker said, striding toward his brother. He kneeled before me, pointing at the Emperor’s boots. “Maybe you should clean them up.”
I sat back, confused, looking for the towel they’d given me. The Bastardmaker laughed. “With your mouth.”
Oh. I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing back bile, and then I bent back down, extended my tongue, and licked.
I had to work to keep from throwing up again.
From gagging on the scent of shit beneath his heels, the stale aroma of urine.
I didn’t know what I was licking or tasting.
I couldn’t. I just knew I had to do this.
Had to finish, had to breathe through my nose and not throw up.
So I licked and I licked, tears burning my eyes, Galen’s moans in the background.
And I did the same on the other boot. Licking, and gagging, and holding it in, crying with every inch.
“What do you think, Waryn?” the Emperor asked. “Clean enough?”
The Bastardmaker laughed. “They have a certain shine to them.”
Suddenly, I was hauled to my feet, and dragged toward Galen so we were face-to-face.
“You want to live?” the Emperor asked him. “Keep your eye open.”
Galen’s nostrils flared, his lips screwed together, shaking, but he kept his eye on me as instructed.
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed, sliding from my head to my waist. “Take down your pants,” he said.
“What! No.” I shook my head. “Please—”
“Take. Down. Your. Pants.”
Galen cried out, the sound awful. His chest heaved, but he kept his eye on me.
Using my left hand, I reached for my waist, and undid the laces, letting my pants fall open.
“I said down,” the Emperor said.
So I pushed on them, and they fell to my knees, leaving me otherwise naked.
“Go on,” the Emperor said, his black eyes on my cock. “Grip it. Nice and firm.”
My breath was shallow as I did, moving my left hand to wrap around myself. I was going numb. I couldn’t feel a thing. Not even the pain radiating through me. The Bastardmaker moved closer, watching intently. His hand snaking down to his hip and then lower. He was turned on.
“Galen,” the Emperor said. “Look at what your friend is willing to do to save your life.”
But Galen only glared, the look on his face saying if he could speak, he’d be cursing right now.
“You’re not looking, Galen,” the Bastardmaker said. “You’re not looking where you’re supposed to.” He took his face again, forcing it down, forcing him to stare at my cock.
“Are you satisfied?” I gritted through my teeth, terrified of what was next.
“Satisfied?” the Emperor asked. “Can one ever be satisfied?”
My chest heaved. “What more must I do for Galen to live?” I asked, my voice small and trembling.
He made a sound low in his throat. “Oh, dear Tristan. Nothing. Because you see, Galen’s a liability.
He knows the truth, and unfortunately he has neither a face, nor a name that is of use to us now.
My uncle’s murderer must be punished. Justice must be served.
So, Galen will be named a traitor and made into an example. ”
“B-But,” I stammered, “I did what you asked. I—” I’d followed his directions. Fuck. FUCK! I did everything he asked.
“This was merely punishment for your betrayal,” the Emperor drawled.
“Not a bargain for his life. You’ll be signing a blood contract with the Bastardmaker, doing whatever he commands you from now on.
I see now you needed a far tighter leash than we first gave to you.
You will have tonight to heal, get a cast for that hand.
Tomorrow night, you’ll return to Bamaria.
There you are to begin your duties.” He ran his knuckles down Galen’s cheek.
“And poor Galen here,” he jerked his chin at his brother.
“NO!” I roared.
But the Bastardmaker’s sword was pointed right at Galen’s waist. His eyes widened, and his face tightened like he was bracing for what was about to come. The Bastardmaker’s muscles tensed as he pulled his arm back, and then with a rageful cry, he drove the sword into Galen’s side.
I screamed, but no sound could escape my lips. I was three years old again, terrified of the vorakh tearing my parents apart.
Galen made a final pained, wet, wheezing sound, like he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. His eyes lifted, focusing on me as the sword drove in further, the point tearing through him. Blood dripped down his side, his body convulsing as it was impaled. Left to right.
“Galen,” I screamed in silence. “Galen!”
For a second, there was a light in his eyes as they reached mine. But the light vanished, his head rolling forward.
My heart cracked in two.
“You can take your hand off your cock now,” the Emperor sneered, his eyes dipping between my legs with disdain. “You’ll need it. You have papers to sign.”