Marked for Death

Chapter 8

“You did a good thing,” Sallah said through the barred window in the door of the jail. Her words echoed off the walls of the room dug deep into the stone beneath the town hall, and they sounded hollow in Kandler’s ears.

The justicar sat up from where he’d been lying on the smooth, gray stone floor. The same material made up the walls, which were featureless but for two things-the anchors to which Temmah and Rislinto had attached the prisoners’ manacles and the pair of cold fire torches that burned without smoke or heat, their flickering light lending a bit of illusory warmth that did nothing to push back the room’s gravelike chill. Kandler’s chains clinked as he stood up and stretched as far as the links would let him.

Across the room, Burch remained seated in his iron chains, the pupils of his yellow eyes gleaming in the torchlight. Still as a statue, he glared at the window in the door, the only window in the room, just as he had since he first heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. Kandler could feel the frustration radiating from his friend, as silent and cold as the unnatural torches.

“Temmah,” Kandler said. “Is it our custom to let strangers visit with prisoners?”

“No,” the dwarf called up at the window from the other side of the door, too short to speak directly through the aperture. “Well, actually, I don’t really know. You two are the first prisoners we’ve ever had.”

“Do you think I’d approve?” Kandler arched an eyebrow at the door. He thought he saw Sallah smiling at him through the bars. She turned away, though, before he could be sure.

Kandler could almost hear the dwarf pull at his beard as he puzzled over the question. “Normally, no,” he said, “but these circumstances aren’t particularly normal.”

Kandler nodded, even though he knew Temmah couldn’t see him. “You’re one smart dwarf, Temmah,” he said. “When your world changes, you change with it.”

“I wish we could say as much of our town’s leader.”

Kandler and Burch both laughed at that. The echoes reminded them of where they were, and the sound trailed off fast. Kandler sat thinking for a moment. He wasn’t sure just how he’d gotten himself into this mess, but he knew he needed to get out.

“How long we here for, Temmah?” Burch asked.

The dwarf hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Well, that all depends. We’ve never imprisoned any of our own before-or anyone else for that matter. You’re our inaugural guests.”

“Some honor,” said Burch. Kandler knew the shifter would have preferred to fight, but once the justicar gave himself up, Burch followed his lead. They hadn’t talked much since Mardak had thrown them in chains.

Kandler got up and started to pace the floor as far as his chains would let him. He could only go about three steps before he had to turnaround. “This is a fine jail you built, Temmah,” he said.

The dwarf laughed, a low merry rumble. “With all respect, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Compared to even the humble bolt hole in the Mror Holds where I was whelped, this is little more than an outhouse.”

Kandler nodded. “It’s better than any of the rest of us could have managed.” He stopped pacing to turn to the door and ask, “What are the plans for us?”

Kandler saw Sallah look down at Temmah. When she looked back up, she passed along the dwarf’s shrug.

“Any ideas at all?” Kandler said.

Sallah spoke, her voice calm and even. “Your leader doesn’t seem to think there’s any need for a trial.”

Kandler smiled and wiped a hand across his brow. “Priscinta and Rislinto finally got him to calm down? That’s a relief.”

“Ah, no,” Temmah called up through the window. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that.”

“Worse?” Burch asked. He leaped to his feet, his chains jangling around him. “What’s worse than cooking to death?”

Temmah cleared his throat but no words came out.

“Temmah?” said Kandler. The dwarf’s silence unnerved him, but he wanted an answer to Burch’s question.

Sallah spoke up. “Mardak says your actions were treasonous. Everyone in town saw you, so there’s no need for a trial.”

“No cookfire for us, at least,” Burch said.

Without taking his eyes from Sallah’s, Kandler put up his hand to silence his friend. “What’s the penalty for treason?” he asked.

The lady knight looked down at the ground, away from Temmah. “You’re to be executed,” she said.

Burch jumped back, rattling his chains. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Sorry, lad,” said Temmah. “They’re dead-uh, I mean, they’re entirely serious. At least Mardak is.”

“Won’t this Mardak see reason once he calms down?” asked Sallah.

A chill ran through Kandler’s guts. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. He’s had a bad few weeks, and today was the worst. We embarrassed him in front of the town.”

“He hit Priscinta,” Burch said.

“He’ll pay for that for a while,” Kandler said with a rueful smile. “Priscinta will get her pound of flesh from him a painful ounce at a time. But he knows that, and it won’t improve his mood.”

“He was wrong about us,” Sallah said.

Kandler could hear in her voice that she knew how little comfort that would be to him. “Has he admitted that yet?”

“He’s having dinner with Sir Deothen right now.” Sallah gazed through the bars at Kandler. He noticed how green her eyes were in the light from the cold fire torch in the sconce outside the door.

“You weren’t invited?”

Sallah smirked. “I was. I declined.”

Kandler smiled and peered out at the knight’s earnest face framed in the barred window. “So what are you doing here?”

“She wanted to say thanks,” Temmah called up through the window.

Kandler thought he could see Sallah blush. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “As Knights of the Silver Flame, we’re usually the ones who come to the rescue.”

“Happy to oblige.” Kandler tried to keep the irony from his voice.

“You saved the lives of many of your friends.”

“I-” Kandler stopped. “Yeah, I suppose we did.”

“We will not permit you to be executed for our sake, of course.”

The shifter perked his ears at this idea. “How will you stop it?” Burch asked.

“As we speak, Sir Deothen is arguing for your lives.”

The dwarf standing next to Sallah snorted. She glared down at him as if he was a beetle she wanted to stomp beneath her boot.

Kandler shook his head. “Temmah?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think of that?”

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Go ahead.”

“That jackass needs someone to pay for his mistakes. You and Burch, you’re at the top of his list.”

“You don’t think Deothen is going to hold any sway with him?” Kandler knew the answer, but he wanted Sallah to hear it.

The-dwarf scoffed. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw the whole lot of those armored pansies down here to rot with you. Begging your pardon, miss,” Temmah said to Sallah, “but if Priscinta hadn’t had Mardak scared enough to nearly wet himself, that’s just what would have happened.”

“That’s appalling,” Sallah said. “What about the Code of Justice?”

“You’re a long way from civilization out here,” Kandler said. He’d lived by the code of justice for most of his life, and he’d spent the last two years here enforcing it here. It pained him to see people he’d once trusted throw it aside so casually. “They don’t hold trials by fire in Sham.”

“Nor in Flamekeep,” said Sallah. “You are the justicar here. Do you not hold any sway over this place?”

“You’re asking me that question through a set of bars.”

“Rislinto,” Burch said. “He’ll stop Mardak. For sure.” He started to pace the floor, just as Kandler had done before. The sound of his chains dragging back and forth on the stone floor seemed to soothe him.

For Kandler, the noise sounded horribly close to that of an executioner whetting his blade.