Betrayal

Chapter Eighteen Ropes and Good-byes

Dhamon had the largest cell to himself. Despite the thickness of the iron bars, the newness of lock, despite a guard with a drawn sword stationed only a few feet away in the hall, the Legion of Steel Knights had seen the need to put him in heavy chains. They took no chances. His cell was clean and tidy, not what he’d expect of a prison. There was a flask of water and a bowl filled with spiced oatmeal on the floor, and there were heavy blankets on a cot that had been neatly made, but there was a thin film of dust on the top blanket and on practically everything else. Dhamon decided the jail wasn’t used often. Perhaps Wheatland was a law-abiding place. There were four other cells in the jail, three of these occupied by his companions. Maldred, in chains modified to fit his larger wrists and ankles, lay in a heap on the floor with what had once passed for a cot crushed beneath him. He was sound asleep, drugged by some vile concoction the Knights forced down his throat before carrying him into his cell. The sivak in the cell across from Maldred’s was likewise drugged, though unchained, only because the blacksmith had not yet finished making large enough manacles. They would be coming soon, Dhamon had heard the guard say.

“Dhamon, what’re they gonna do to us?”

He made no reply.

“Dhamon, I’m talkin’ to you!” Rikali was in the cell directly opposite Dhamon’s. The half-elf sat on the cot, leg tucked up under her awkwardly because of her ankle chains—they’d not chained her wrists-—with Varek’s head cradled in her lap. She was stroking his sweat-slicked brow and fussing over him.

Varek’s stump had been freshly bandaged by the Knights. Dhamon had cauterized the wound well, but he knew Varek was feverish and still in the throes of shock from having half his leg removed.

“Keep him warm, Riki,” Dhamon told her. “Use the blanket under you. Can you reach into Ragh’s cell and get that one, too?”

The half-elf eased herself out from under her young husband and wrapped first one blanket around him, then the other. When she was finished, she grabbed the bars and glared at Dhamon.

“What’re they gonna do to us?” she repeated.

“Hang us probably,” came Dhamon’s cold reply. He turned away from her and went to the back of his small cell, chains clanking and stirring the dirt on the floor. There was a window high on the wall, and Dhamon managed to pull himself up by the bars to look out. The window was too small to fit through. He had already considered that, but it afforded him a view. There was a massive oak with thick, wide limbs. A platform was being erected beneath the biggest branch.

“Yeah, they’re going to hang us, Riki.”

“Don’t we get us a trial, Dhamon?” Her voice wavered with fear. “Knights are supposed to be fair and chivalrous and all.”

He gave her a curt laugh and watched the Legion Knights hammer away. “Would a trial help? We did steal from the Knights in the Khur hospital, after all.”

“You stole!” she said. “You’re the one who had to steal from the hospital, Dhamon Grimwulf. I didn’t steal from that hospital. I probably didn’t even get my fair share.”

“We fought our way out of town….”

“So a few Knights got hurt,” she said. “Hurt. We was defending ourselves.”

“A few might have been killed, Riki,” Dhamon admitted.

“Self-defense, I say.”

He shrugged. “We burned down most of the town.”

“An accident. Fetch started the fire when we was all tryin’ to escape.”

Dhamon gave another laugh. “Fetch is dead, so he can’t take responsibility for it, now, can he?

Besides, I doubt the Legion of Steel would believe a kobold.” He heard her shuffle away to settle on the edge of the cot.

“I’m too young to die, Dhamon Grimwulf,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Everybody dies, Riki.”

“Everybody lies,” she shot back. “You and Mal lied to me, damn you. Made me think Mal was my friend, was a man and not some… some blue-skinned monster.”

“An ogre.”

“Monster.” She let out a breath, the air whistling between her teeth, stirring the curls that fell across her forehead. “You lied to me, lettin’ me think you loved me.”

“Maybe that wasn’t a complete lie,” he said so softly she barely heard him.

“You left me all alone in Blöten, no intention of ever comin’ back for me. All of them ugly ogres everywhere. An’ that’s not the worst of it, Dhamon. Look at what happened to my Varek—an’ all’ cause he followed you into that cavern.”

She wiped the sweat away from Varek’s face and smooth the strands of hair away from his eyes.

“And now we’re all gonna hang. ’Cause of you.”

It was an hour or longer before Dhamon heard the front door to the jail open and heavy footsteps clomp toward the cells. The approaching Legion of Steel Knight was rumpled, dirt staining his tabard and streaking his face.

“Commander Lawlor has just returned to town,” the Knight announced. The Knights who carted Dhamon and the others to this jail had been surprised to find Lawlor and several of his men missing from Wheatland. They were out on patrol, someone had mentioned, trying to track down a lead on fleeing Silvanesti elves.

“He will pass sentence on the sorry lot of you soon,” the Knight added, pivoting on his dirt-caked leather heels and striding from the prison.

“We’re all going to hang,” Dhamon said.

* * * * *

It was nearly sunset before Lawlor visited the jail, after first inspecting the gallows, which seemed to be finished to his satisfaction. Dhamon watched him and his men from the window in the cell.

“Dhamon Grimwulf,” Commander Lawlor said, stroking his mustache and slowly studying Dhamon from head to toe. Lawlor was holding one of the wanted posters that bore Dhamon’s likeness.

Dhamon glowered at him.

“You must die,” the commander said calmly. “Before morning, for all your crimes against my Knighthood.”

“All of us?” This came quietly from the half-elf.

“I only have a notice on Mister Grimwulf,” the commander replied, not taking his eyes from Dhamon’s, “but I understand you are all his followers.” He waved Maldred’s poster in front of Dhamon. “Where is this man, your confederate?”

Dhamon shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for quite some time.”

Lawlor interrogated him about the hospital robbery and the burning of the Khur town, about a variety of thefts in which he had been—falsely—implicated. Lawlor asked repeatedly concerning the whereabouts of Maldred. Finally he tossed Dhamon the wanted posters and turned to Varek. The young man was sitting up on the cot, Rikali at his side, holding his hand. The half-elf was gazing intently at something on the floor, not raising her eyes to meet the Knight Commander’s.

“Varek.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not sure how a respectable young man like you fell in with this pack of thieves.”

Varek made a move to answer, but Lawlor cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I’m not sure that I want to know.” Lawlor moved closer to the cell door. “Varek, your father and I are good friends, and it would crush him to know about the company you’ve been keeping. Give me some additional information about this group, some evidence that I can use against Dhamon Grimwulf, some idea of where I can find this other man, and I’ll let you go. You need healing, young man, and if you cooperate I will gladly let you go.”

Varek shook his head.

“I don’t think you understand, son. Though I won’t see you hanged, I’ll see you languish in jail—just for consorting with this man. Give me some evidence.”

Varek’s lips formed a defiant line.

“Loyal, like your father.”

Varek remained silent for a moment, squeezing Riki’s hand.

“Everything will be all right,” he whispered to her. “We won’t be hung. We won’t even be kept in jail for very long—especially not with you being pregnant.”

“But I’m not so loyal,” she said gently, edging away from Varek and raising her face, shuffling forward, close to Commander Lawlor. “I’ve no reason to be loyal any longer to Dhamon Grimwulf. I’ll give you whatever evidence you want against him. Things nobody but me knows.”

“Riki, no!” Varek practically shouted. He tried to stand, but only toppled facedown onto the dirt-covered floor. “You don’t have to say anything on my behalf.” Varek squirmed over to the cot and began to pull himself up. “Please Riki. We’ll get out of this somehow. My father has influence.”

“I’ll tell you about every robbery Dhamon Grimwulf’s ever done, every man I’ve seen him kill. Every little dark secret in his hard dark heart. I’ll tell you all about Maldred, too, the man on that other poster you had.” Her fingers moved in the direction of the second parchment on the floor.

“See that blue-skinned monster over there? Believe it or not, that’s Maldred.”

“Riki…” Varek was still pleading.

“He’s an ogre mage, able to use magic to make himself look like a big handsome man. Probably likes bein’ a human better’n his ugly, monstrous self.”

Lawlor smiled grimly as Rikali prattled on, as Varek’s protests finally died, as Dhamon stared in disbelief.

“An’ that beastie,” she concluded, nodding her head toward Ragh, who was clearly unconscious.

“He’s the only one who ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Sure he’s a beastie, but he don’t deserve to be hanged. Not like Dhamon an’ Maldred.”

Lawlor glanced at the draconian. “If the creature comes to, we’ll question him. I cannot let him go, though. He’s a draconian. My men will make quick, merciful work of him.”

Riki returned to Varek’s side with a defiant expression. “Varek and me are married, Commander Lawlor, an’ we’re gonna have us a baby.” She smoothed the tunic over her stomach. “An’ I don’t want my baby born in no jail.”

“He won’t be,” Lawlor reassured her.

“And I don’t want my husband spending any more time in this awful, awful place.”

“The two of you will be released immediately.” He spun about and took a few steps, stopping abruptly and looking back to catch Varek’s gaze. “You’ve a good woman, son. Take care of her. I’ll arrange for a wagon and a horse. And I’ll leave you with some small bit of the treasure we confiscated to help you on your way. A sack of coins—” he paused—“and a peg leg or two.” The commander gestured at Varek’s stump. “You’ll be able to use them when the swelling goes down. I trust you’ll use the wagon to take yourself and your, er, wife back to your father’s estate.”

Silence filled the jail after the last of Commander Lawlor’s footfalls faded.

* * * * *

Varek and Riki left without another word. For a long, long time Dhamon continued to stare at their empty cell.

“At least she’s safe and away from here.” This came from Maldred, who’d managed to shake off enough of the drug so he could stand up and lean against the bars. He tried to budge them. “These could hold an elephant.”

Dhamon shook his head.

“You wouldn’t have wanted her to die with us, would you?” Maldred said. He kept his eyes closed.

“No, I wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“With luck, we won’t die either.” Maldred eased himself down on the floor again, shoulder leaning against the bars, fingers splayed in the dirt.

“You’ve got some magic left?”

Maldred looked up to be sure there wasn’t a guard within sight. “A little, I think. I felt it returning before they made me drink that… concoction.” He closed his eyes and bent his head forward, his mane of white hair falling across his face. Then he softly hummed. Long minutes later, the manacles fell from Maldred’s wrists and ankles, too large for his human body. Maldred moved the chains away and rubbed at his ankles. Then he took a deep breath and returned his hands to the floor. He dug his fingertips into the earth and began chanting. Maldred had managed to create a hole almost big enough for him to squeeze through when Commander Lawlor returned with a quartet of Legion Knights.

“Time to die,” Lawlor announced, his eyes gleaming with pleasure when he saw that Maldred had shed his ogre-form.

Dhamon and Maldred were roughly ushered from their cells and down the hall, out to where a small crowd of Knights and townsfolk had gathered around the gallows. Back in the jail, Ragh finally groaned and opened his eyes, looking around to wonder where Maldred and Dhamon were.

* * * * *

“Dhamon Grimwulf,” Commander Lawlor began. “You have been sentenced to die for the burning of an entire town, for theft and mayhem in a hospital, for crimes committed against the Legion of Steel, and for various offenses committed against residents of Khur and no doubt other places.”

“May his soul rot in the Abyss!” a townsman cried as Dhamon was ushered up on the platform and the noose fitted around his neck.

“Burn them!” another shouted. “Hanging is too kind for thieves!”

“Maldred the ogre,” Lawlor continued, speaking over the jeers of the crowd, “for those crimes which I have listed, you also will share blame and hang.”

Suddenly a Legion Knight ran toward the gallows, shouting, trying to force his way through the crowd.

“Wait!” the Knight cried. “Stop!”

The Knight executioner paid no heed. At a nod from Lawlor, he pulled a lever. The floor of the gallows dropped from beneath Maldred’s and Dhamon’s feet.

In the next instant several things happened.

Maldred released the enchantment that gave him his human form. His larger, and much heavier ogre body, was too much for the rope, and it broke, spilling him to the ground. Dhamon began to suffocate. He flailed about like a desperate man, then decided that he should accept his fate of execution. It would end his misery from the scale. He relaxed and felt the rope tighten.

The shouting Knight finally made his way through the crowd and jumped on the platform. He raised his sword and sliced at Dhamon’s rope. “Stop this!” he yelled in a hoarse voice. Knight Commander Lawlor had been enjoying the execution and didn’t appreciate the interruption. He fumbled angrily at his waist for his sword. He sputtered at the Knight who had released Dhamon and who was now helping him up onto the platform.

“You, stop!” a red-faced Lawlor bellowed. “Insubordination!” He turned to a group of Knights behind him. “Get them! Get all three!”

The men rushed forward, freezing when they heard a shrill scream behind them. Wheeling as one, they saw the thatched roof of the jail burst into flames.

Lawlor directed a few of his men to the jail to put out the fire, while the rest he ordered in pursuit of Maldred and Dhamon and the strange Knight, who were running pell-mell away from the gallows. With a loud roar the gallows burst into flames, forcing the crowd and the Legion Knights back. Another roar and Wheatland’s stables also burned merrily.

“Stop them!” Lawlor screamed, as he, too, tried to gave chase.

Maldred chanted as he ran, pulling all the magic from his body he could collect, directing that energy in the form of fire at building after building, burning Wheatland as they had burned the town in Khur some months ago. He chuckled deeply.

“Like old times, my friend,” he shouted to Dhamon, who was running next to him. Dhamon did not reply. In amazement he watched the running Knight at their side transform into the sivak Ragh.

“Just like old times,” Maldred repeated.

It was an hour before they could pause to catch their breath, hiding in an earthen cave Maldred had created with his magic. He left an opening so they could watch the dozen Knights searching the area.

Dawn painted the sky pink before Maldred had regained enough strength to cast another spell.

“Like the good, old times,” he said. He hummed, fingers twirling in the air as he adopted his human guise once again.

“Aye,” Dhamon said. “Old times, but not good ones. Running from Legion of Steel Knights.”

“Running and thieving.” The sivak tossed Dhamon a coin purse that had been on the guard he’d killed, whose form he had assumed. He threw the sword to the ground. “Your lives are… interesting,” Ragh said.

Dhamon brushed the dirt from his tattered clothes, feeling the scales on his leg. “And hopeless. We’ve no enchanted map and no chance of finding the healer now.”

Maldred stretched and arched his back, turning first one way and then the next. “There’s always hope, Dhamon. I swore I’d help you find a cure. You’re as dear as any brother, and I won’t let you down. We don’t need the map any longer. I think I know where we need to go.”

He studied the horizon to the east. “I don’t think we should risk staying around here. I’ll wager they’ll be putting up more and bigger posters soon—maybe sending out an army.”

Dhamon smiled sadly at that thought.

“Shall we?” Maldred pointed northwest, then struck out in that direction at a brisk pace. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Dhamon was coming.

“Very interesting,” Ragh repeated, following a few yards behind.