Echoes Of A Gloried Past (Book 2) (22 page)

The Elitesman stuck the metal tongs into the chest and withdrew a white crystal that dripped with cold vapor. The metal tongs began to ice along the tips and crept toward the handles. The Elitesman quickly brought over the white crystal, and just as it was about to touch the Hythariam’s foot, Gavril’s whole body jerked, knocking the crystal to the floor at the Elitesmen’s feet. Ice quickly branched out from the crystal and encased the Elitesman’s leg, and after a few seconds his whole body. It happened so quickly that the Elitesman didn’t even cry out. The others looked on in shock.

“What is happening here?” a man asked from the doorway. He was finely dressed with golden robes cascading over his tunic. His hair was blond almost to the point of being white with only hints of yellow.

The Elitesmen in the room saluted the man and bowed their heads momentarily ignoring their frozen companion.

“Elite Master Gerric,” an Elitesmen answered.

“Go ahead, Sevan,” the Elite Master said.

“We believe these four are in league with the Alenzar’seth,” the Elitesman called Sevan said. “Two of their number have been trained in the Shandarian way.”

The Elite Master frowned and narrowed his gaze at the three prisoners huddled behind the barrier.

“A barrier?" the Elite Master said, and his mouth almost curved into an exasperated smile. “Impressive.”

“We’ve tried to break through, but have been unsuccessful,” Sevan said, “but this one was caught outside the barrier and is a Hythariam.”

“You won’t be able to get through the barrier. Not directly at least,” the Elite Master’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “A Hythariam,” he said and walked over to where Gavril waited, strapped to the chair. “I’ve only heard rumors of your kind.”

Gavril said nothing, his gaze unyielding to the Elite Grand Master.

“Their healing capabilities are impressive,” Sevan said. “He seems to have the ability to both go into a trance-like state yet be aware of his surroundings at the same time.”

Gerric nodded and headed for the door. “Proceed as you were. We’ll be gathering at the arena. Learn what you can until then,” the Elite Master said and left the room.

Sevan whispered something to one of the Elitesmen, who then left. Verona watched as Sevan retrieved the red crystal and held it near their frozen companion who thawed as quickly as he had become frozen. Sevan gestured to the remaining Elitesmen who then carried the injured one from the room. 

Sevan returned the red crystal to the chest, and a servant entered. The man had on a gray shirt and plain brown pants. The servant’s eyes darted around the room and turned as if to run away, but was blocked by another Elitesman.

“Please come in,” Sevan said in a sunny tone.

The man entered the room on shaky legs. "Y … Yes, my Lord.”

Sevan glanced at Verona and smirked, and Verona felt sick.

“Now we can begin,” the Elitesman said. “Why are you in Khamearra? Are you here to kill the High King? Cut the proverbial head from the snake? Are you planning to attack the city? Why are you here?”

Verona silently returned the Elitesman’s gaze. The Elitesman stepped forward just outside the barrier and divided his gaze among the three of them, his gaze lingering on Roselyn. 

“Surely, you must know that a rescue is not possible,” Sevan continued. “Why don’t you make it easier on yourself and tell me where he is? We know the heir of Alenzar’seth is in the city.”

Sevan began to turn around when Verona spoke. “Don’t you mean easier for yourself?”

The Elitesman’s head snapped back toward him, and his eyes narrowed, full of hatred for a moment before smiling. “I mean for you. We both know I can’t get through your barrier, but I really don’t need to.” He said, glancing pointedly back at the terrified servant.

The Elitesman drew a small katana from his hip. “Stick out your hand.”

The servant looked at the Elitesmen and at Verona before slowly holding up his shaky hand. "P… Please, my Lord don’t... ”

The Elitesman brandished his blade and looked back at Verona. “Why are you here!”

Verona said nothing and held back the bile creeping up his throat as he looked helplessly back at the terrified servant.

“As you wish,” the Elitesmen said and immediately swung the katana.

The servant screamed in pain as his left hand was cleanly severed from his arm. Blood spattered to the floor like runny sap, and the poor man collapsed, clutching the stump of his arm to his chest.

“You bastard!” Verona screamed.

He could hear Roselyn cry out behind him.

The Elitesman regarded him coolly. “Your silence cost this man his hand. If you remain so then it will cost him a good deal more until I get the answers I seek.”

“You are a fool if you think any of us will tell you anything,” Verona said. 

The Elitesman seemed unfazed by Verona’s defiance. “Have it your way.”

Verona was unable to keep the horror from his face as the Elitesmen turned to the servant who was now whimpering, crouched upon the floor as he clutched the stump of his arm.

“Get up,” hissed the Elitesman.

Despite his pain, the fear of the Elitesmen was too great for the servant to ignore, and he rose shakily to his feet and glanced at the remains of his hand on the floor. Tears streamed down his face as he looked pleadingly to the group behind the barrier.

Verona glanced at the others. Sarik had his eyes closed, his face a mask of concentration. Roselyn returned his gaze with a pained expression, tears brimming in her eyes. For a moment, Verona wanted to tell the Elitesman something … anything to spare the poor man in front of him further pain, but he couldn’t. 

“Very well,” the Elitesman said and turned back to the servant. “Take your clothes off.”

The servant began to clumsily unbutton his shirt with his remaining hand and let it fall to the floor. The Elitesman’s baleful gaze ignited when the servant looked at him, and he pushed out with his hand and sent a blast of air that knocked the servant to the floor.

“I said take off your clothes,” Sevan hissed.

The servant scrambled to his feet, quickly removed his pants, and stood naked before them.

Satisfied, the Elitesman walked over to the table, his fingers gliding across the instruments of torture as if he were at a market. He then turned back to Verona with a huge smile that split his terrible face. The servant’s eyes darted to the door, but two Elitesmen barred the way.

Verona looked back at the Elitesman he wanted to kill and watched as he selected a large spike with jagged edges from the table .

“This will do,” the Elitesman said gleefully and stalked, like a leopard, toward the naked man. 

The spike glowed for a moment in the Elitesman’s hands as he dragged it across the servant's chest. The man flinched from the touch and appeared shocked when nothing happened. Then the Elitesman let the spike linger upon the man’s shoulder, and his face crumpled in pain as a growing patch of blackness grew on the skin.

“Stop!” Verona cried over the servant’s screams, but the Elitesman refused to stop. The man writhed on the floor while the Elitesman drove the spike deeper into his shoulder and the blackness continued to spread.

Roselyn buried her face into Verona’s shoulder, and he brought his arms up around her.

“You want to know why we’re here, Elitesman,” Verona screamed. “We’re here to kill you and all those like you down to the last man. The oppression of the Elite Order will be wiped from the world like a stain. Kill all your servants if you will but mark me: before this day is done, I will walk over your cold corpse.”

The Elitesman looked unimpressed and drove the spike into the servant’s thigh next. The echoes of the suffering screams carried Verona out of time until he was a bundle of fury, but he dared not bring down the barrier because he knew if he did, then the torture being performed upon the poor man before them would be visited tenfold upon themselves.

C
HAPTER
15

ANCIENT ALLIES

THE hours swept by like a waterfall, and despite the lack of sleep, Aaron felt fine. Anson had left them earlier in the morning to organize the Resistance. Having spent a few hours with the man, Aaron trusted that the distractions created throughout the city would not cause any civilian loss of life. They would target key locations in the most corrupt districts so that it would draw the attention of the Elitesmen and guardsmen alike. Mid-afternoon was the agreed-upon timeframe, and Aaron was impressed at the speed at which the De’anjard Resistance could be mobilized into action. Anson explained that they already had plans in place to mobilize quickly. Putting the plan into action would be the easy part. They would converge upon the arena after Aaron made his appearance. 

Captain Nolan was as good as his word. He kept the less trust worthy of his guards out on patrol or paired with guardsmen either already sworn to the Resistance or loyal to Nolan himself. The privacy was much appreciated. The Elitesman, Isaac, however, was another matter. Maybe it was simply the fact that he was an Elitesman that Aaron couldn’t get past, but there was something that Aaron just didn’t like. Something in the man’s eyes or maybe it was the fact that he had to rely on the Elitesman to help free his friends. Aaron hoped that Verona and the others were able to hold out. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Aaron suggested. “I could use some fresh air.”

Nolan nodded. “There is a training yard in the back of the building that is normally vacant at this time of day.”

Aaron thanked him and nodded for Braden to come with him. A few minutes later, they emerged in a yard that was easily an acre of open space, which this far into the city was truly something to be appreciated. There was a ten-foot wall that surrounded the training yard, but Nolan was right, there was hardly anyone here. He and Braden moved off to the side.

“How are you doing?” Aaron asked.

The angry glint had hardly left Braden’s eyes. “Anxious to get going. I can’t stand the thought of the others being held by the Elite.”

Aaron nodded. “Try to keep a clear head. I don’t want you to sacrifice your life for revenge.”

“Sacrifice is one of the tenants of the De’anjard,” Braden replied.

“I know,” Aaron said. “Verona and the others are counting on us, but don’t let Eric’s sacrifice be in vain. He saved your life, and we can’t pull this off without you. I need someone I trust to go into the tower.”

The jaw muscles on Braden’s face flexed at his clenching teeth. “The Elitesmen will pay.”

“On that we can agree, and now you stand a better chance at facing them,” Aaron said. “I’ve felt you open yourself up to the energy. You’ve hardly let it go since this morning.”

Braden’s eyes shifted as he scanned around them, then he nodded.

“Use it,” Aaron said. “Be aware of your surroundings. Part of control comes from surrendering to it in part. The Elitesmen like to use cunning and brutality. Don’t let your pride be something that they can use against you.”

“The whisperings … the voices are many,” Braden said. “How do you know which one to listen to?”

Aaron paused a second to form his answer. “You know when we practice the slow fighting forms or do practice sparring. The movements come from your mind and from muscle memory. I think of them as urges, and they compliment my movements. You will get to a point where the voices or whisperings fade away entirely. Hold true to your core being. You are the embodiment of the De’anjard, the Shields of Shandara. Let that be your compass.” He wished that there was more time to practice, but time was not a luxury they could afford at the moment.

Braden was silent for a few moments, lost in his own thoughts. “Thank you, my Lord. I won’t let Verona and the others down.”

Aaron put his hand on Braden’s shoulder, squeezed, and then asked, “What do you think of the plan?”

Braden frowned. “I would rather join you in the arena, but I think splitting apart is our best option. The Elitesmen will flock to you like moths to a flame. Are you prepared for that?”

Before Aaron could answer, the comms device buzzed in his pocket. After a quick look around, he withdrew it so that both he and Braden could listen.

“I’ve found them,” Tanneth’s voice came from the device.

“Are they all right?” Aaron asked.

“They are alive, but Aaron … ” Tanneth said softly. “It’s grim. I don’t know how much longer they can hold out.”

Aaron shared a hard look with Braden. “We leave now then. Is there anything the drones can do until we get there?” Aaron asked.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tanneth said. “I’ve also added my own bit of distraction. I would suggest avoiding the northern walls of the Citadel this evening.”

Aaron nodded. “Okay. We’re moving out now. The Resistance should be starting its own distractions throughout the city.”

Without another word, they raced back into the building, heading to Nolan’s office.

“We need to leave now,” Aaron said. “We have their location.”

The Elitesman Isaac frowned. “Where?”

“I’m about to show you something that I don’t have time to explain right now, but trust that the information I have is accurate,” Aaron said.

He brought out the comms device and keyed in the sequence that Tanneth had showed him, which pulled up a small display. It was a simple map of the levels of the tower, and the glowing point near the middle was where Verona and the others were being held captive. Nolan blinked and moved his hands along the hologram, and Isaac’s eyes widened at the display.

The Elitesman Isaac swallowed and looked at Aaron. “I’m sorry Aaron. That is where they take captives for … interrogation. If your friends are there then time is short. We must make haste.”

Aaron nodded and chose not to reveal Tanneth to the group now, preferring to keep that information to himself and Braden. With the sun beginning to wane, they gathered at the front of the district headquarters. The common prattle of the people on the street seemed deceptively calm, considering what was about to happen.

“This is where we depart,” Captain Nolan said. “Safe journey to us all.”