Blood of the Redd Guard - Part Two (8 page)

Sweat trickled down her forehead and into her eyes. She blinked in an effort to ease the stinging, but it didn’t go away. She tried reaching for her head to wipe around her eyes, but the rope keeping her to the chair held her hands fast as well. The side of her head throbbed and her shoulders were sore from where they had tried to rip her arms out of her sockets while tying her down.

She took a breath, held it, and then released it. Panicking was the surest path to death. She needed to think.

The evening had ended and Nelion was thinking of sleep when it had happened. One moment her apartment was serene and peaceful, the next it was overrun with hooded people. If she wouldn’t have let her guard down, she and the city guards might have done better, but it had been a long day that she’d thought was over.

She had grabbed her sword from where it hung on the wall and attacked the closest man, scoring a slice across his chest. Her next swing would have taken him in the gut but a blow to her head from the side stopped her short and her sword was ripped from her hands. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor and the man she’d wounded was kicking her in the head.

The invaders ripped her up from the floor, shoved a strip of cloth into her mouth, and tied it behind her head. Before the dense woven hood was pulled over her eyes, she saw that at least one of her guards was dead and the other two had serious wounds. Three against six were bad odds. One against that many was even worse.

She had been grateful that General Adar Rahid had requisitioned guards to protect both her and Semal but she couldn’t help but feel responsible for what had happened to them. Either way, she would have been kidnapped. She could have done without the additional weight of guilt that came with them being hurt and killed.

As they dragged her from her home, she remembered that General Rahid had been planning to send his own soldiers to relieve the city guards. She’d hoped that they were close, but it galled her to think that she needed to be rescued. It was better than the alternative, however.

At one point, her captors discussed what to do about a city guard patrol that had turned onto the road. A blade was pressed to her side and she was told to be silent. As if she could have said anything anyway with the filthy tasting rag in her mouth. A moment later there was a laugh and one of her captors sounded relieved when he spoke with the guardsmen.

More Kopal,
she had thought and fought the sinking feeling she had in her chest. Any hope she had of rescue had evaporated by the time they stopped moving and tied her to the chair.

Nelion wasn’t aware of how much time had passed since her capture, but she guessed it had been at least an hour. The events of the evening had helped her keep from thinking about Kyson or the man she killed, but now, her fear for her own safety wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from turning to them. She pushed aside thoughts of the Kopal man she had stabbed in the back. She’d do it again if she had to, but she wasn’t ready to process that yet.

She tried to avoid thinking about Kyson, but was unable. It wasn’t the first time that someone Nelion had known had died. She’d lost her father at a young age and she’d lost friends while in Korew army. Unlike so many things in life where the more you did something the better you became; dealing with grief never seemed to get any easier.

Kyson had been a good man that she hadn’t known as well as she would have liked. She had noticed and appreciated his quiet unassuming manner, but she couldn’t go so far as to say she was interested. This wasn’t saying much because she didn’t find many men attractive. While some might have preferred a handsome face or a broad set of shoulders, she wanted a man like her father.

He had had a quality of inner strength and control that her mother was fond of talking about, still years later after his death. It wasn’t that he was physically talented or charismatic; instead, his pride hadn’t usually got the best of him.

In Nelion’s experience it wasn’t just a rare characteristic in men; it was rare in everybody and perhaps why her mother had never remarried. Her father had always given Nelion his full attention and talked to her as if she was an adult, even when she was a small child.

While she hadn’t known Kyson well enough to be interested, in some ways Kyson had reminded her of her father. He’d never tired of answering questions and had kept her needs in mind. One time, after they’d both stayed late at the archives, he’d insisted on walking her home.

Nelion had been both amused and curious at the offer. As a former soldier, she was more than capable of handling any trouble she might run into and between the two of them, Nelion was the one that went around armed. If Kyson kept any weapons on him, she had never been able to detect them.

The closer they had gotten to her place, the more she’d wondered about his intentions. Would he try to steal a kiss? Perhaps invite her to do something? At the door to her apartment, he’d given her a smile and disappeared into the night. She’d been surprised at the disappointment she’d felt when she realized his intention was to only see her home.

The images of the arrow skewering him came to mind and she fought back tears and anger. Her wrists hurt. She realized that she’d formed her hands into fists and her bonds were cutting into them. It was bad enough that she’d made a fool of herself before General Rahid; she didn’t need to do the same before her captors. She took a breath and relaxed her hands.

Panic, tears, and anger were her real enemies. She continued to breathe at a slow rate, emptying her mind.

She had to keep her wits about her.

When the scratchy hood was removed from her head, Nelion recognized it as a bad sign that some of her captors hadn’t bothered to hide their identities. She refused to let the concern touch her.

Altogether, it looked like she was surrounded by a group of about twenty people, five of whom had their faces uncovered and were conversing several feet away from her. The rest wore cowls and masks; similar to the man she’d killed earlier at the Paroke Army archives.

They had dragged her up some stairs and she’d been tied down. While she hadn’t thought to count each step, she believed they were on the second floor.

The room was spacious and musty. A lantern had been set on a table nearby, giving light to the tables scattered throughout, most of which had chairs set upside down on top of them. She was in either a tavern or a meeting hall; it was hard to decide in the poor light.

She could see that it was still dark outside through a couple of windows along the far side of a wall. She didn’t recognize any of the dark buildings on the outside but that wasn’t a surprise. Rarbon was a big enough city that she didn’t have to go far to venture into unfamiliar territory. She was far enough away from the windows that it wasn’t likely that anybody would notice them from the outside. She wondered if anybody would be able to hear her if she screamed.

That would be a last resort, but when the time came, if it indeed came to that, she’d scream herself silly or until they knocked her unconscious.

Or worse.

It was ironic that the most dangerous situation she’d ever encountered hadn’t happened during her time in Korew army, but when she was working as a scribe. She remembered thinking when she took the job that it would be a great deal safer than the life of a soldier. She repressed a snort of dark laughter.

Once her utility to them had passed, her body would be found in an alley or floating face down in one of Rarbon’s canals. Or even worse, perhaps she wouldn’t be found at all. The thought of her disappearing without her mother knowing what had happened caused her to tighten her mouth and push down the panic.

She had to keep them thinking they needed her. She’d hold out through the interrogation as long as possible until she figured out something she could tell them that would make them want her alive.

As the group of un-hooded people talked just out of earshot, she twisted her arms, looking for any give or weakness in the knots keeping her secured to the chair. None were apparent.

Not wanting them to see her looking, she instead shifted in her seat to see if they might have missed one of her daggers. A shift to either side showed that they’d gotten the dagger she’d carried on her waist, but that wasn’t much of a surprise as it had been fastened to her belt. She then lifted her feet off the ground with small movements and was sad to see that they’d located the daggers in her boots as well.

She fought to keep from panicking as she tried to come up with something to do next. It wouldn’t be much longer before they started asking questions. She focused again on steady breathing.

There was a break in the group’s conversation; one of the women approached with a man who held a knife. He was tall and looked familiar, but Nelion was unable to place him. The woman wore a grim but determined smile. She was shorter than the man and had blonde hair. Nelion knew that she’d seen her before. It was there, just out of reach in much the same way a word might feel on the tip of her tongue.

“You’ve killed one of my men tonight.” The woman slapped Nelion. “Stabbing a man in the back. What would your mother say?”

Her stinging face hardened Nelion’s resolve. It was a ploy, to get her to give up something. Her mother wasn’t well enough known that anybody would have taken note of Nelion. This woman didn’t know who she was.

Nelion saw the next slap coming and twisted her head with it, to ease the blow. The woman noticed what she’d done and followed it with a solid fist. Nelion saw stars, the hit had landed on the same place where she’d taken a blow when they’d captured her.

“Where is your honor?” The woman asked, following it up with another blow. “Radim don’t kill from behind.” Her eyes reddened and her face was becoming heated. Her ragged expression was in contrast to her fine clothes and expensive jewelry. If Nelion hadn’t been in so much pain, perhaps she would have figured out who this was. Nelion had killed somebody important to the woman. She could use this. Nelion could make the woman mad to see if she’d give up useful information.

Nelion shrugged, preparing for the beating. “No honor is required when slaughtering swine.” The woman’s face twisted as a shriek escaped from her mouth. Nelion smirked. “He squealed like that too.”

The woman howled as she slapped Nelion repeatedly. Each blow was painful, but Nelion was beginning to feel numb. She embraced that feeling and focused on sucking in air. The woman pulled out a dagger from somewhere that Nelion didn’t see. Nelion braced for the blade. She would give up something Nelion could use; it was just a matter of time.

“Enough,” said the man, grabbing the woman by the arm and yanking her off Nelion. He twisted her arm until the dagger clattered to the floor. “We can’t question a corpse.”

The woman hissed. “Unhand me.” The man refused and pushed her further back from Nelion. Several hooded figures came forward at his beckoning and took hold of her before he let go. She struggled against their grasp, her face a picture of rage and pain.

The man returned as he held up his knife and twisted it so that it reflected the light of the lantern. The others, both from the group and those that wore masks had ceased all conversation and were looking at Nelion.

Beads of sweat trickled down Nelion’s back, the room felt stuffy. The man had foiled her plan to learn something of use. She wished for some of that sycanon root that General Rahid had talked about earlier. She wasn’t in enough pain yet to use it, but it would have been nice to know it was an option.

NO!
she thought. There was a way out of this, until she found it, she would endure the pain.

The man frowned. “Let’s begin. Who are you?”

So, Nelion’s hunch had been correct. The woman had been bluffing. It was a small victory, but she took it and let it buoy her up. It was time to wait until another opportunity presented itself. When Nelion didn’t answer, he struck her with a fist. “That’s a warning.”

Nelion blinked back the tears and shook her head, trying not to think of the bruises that were developing. By the time this was all over, she wouldn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She repressed another snort of black amusement; if she ever saw a mirror again.

The man repeated the question, but Nelion refused to answer. The next blow had more force and pushed her to the floor, taking the chair with her. As he lifted her and the chair back upright, she noticed one of the masked people talking to another in the group, but she was unable to make out what they were saying.

“You try my patience,” the man said.

The hooded figure that had been talking approached her tormentor and whispered something into her ear. A surprised look crossed his face. “Are you Nelion? The daughter of Lieutenant General Mien Torez?”

Clenching her teeth, Nelion didn’t respond.

“Looks like we got ourselves a high profile kidnapping here,” the man said, backhanding Nelion this time. “That’s my last warning.” He looked back at the group. “Perhaps we could use her for ransom instead of dumping her body.” The woman growled at that, but one of the people holding her elbowed her in the stomach.

Nelion felt dizzy and one of her eyes was beginning to swell shut. She was surprised that she wasn’t bleeding yet, but the way the man held the knife told her that wouldn’t last long.

“No more games,” Nelion said, surprised at how tranquil and distant her voice sounded. “I’ve seen your faces. Why leave me alive?”

The man smiled. “You act like the daughter of Mien. You are correct, we will kill you, but you can keep your mother from coming to harm. All you have to do is answer some questions about Semal, and we won’t touch her.” If they came after her mother, they’d have a few surprises of their own. Her mother still practiced with that sword of hers every morning. Sometimes in the evening too.

If Nelion hadn’t quit Korew army, her skill wouldn’t be rusty and she might have avoided this mess. The thought made her mouth tighten. It always came back to the Hunwei. She’d left because she didn’t want to die for something that she didn’t believe in and now she was minutes away from that happening anyway.