Prisoner (35 page)

Beraht.

… You are Benji.

Yes. I'm so glad you've come to see me.

See you? What for?

To make me stronger.

Beraht frowned in his sleep. Something—something wasn't right—but what?
Stronger?

Yes. That's what this chamber is for—it amplifies the power of the Illussor. They only put in one, but this room… it could handle more. Should handle more. Don't you want to help?

He was helping, but not the way Benji meant. What was wrong? Sleeping and waking began to war in his mind, but that voice, which some part of him realized was in his head, kept him sleeping. Beraht struggled to wake, but only fell back into sleeping.
They don't need more power.

Of course they do. It's why they made this: for power. We could be stronger than everyone. Better. Something. Someone.

Someone…

Come. Be my brother. We can make the Illussor brighter than ever.

Beraht struggled for an argument, but could find none. What could be wrong with making everyone stronger? That sounded better than making them weaker. Of what use was weakness? None.

He reached out a hand toward the small crystal that was held by the too-still hands of the Keeper. One touch was all it would take, and—

Pain exploded in his head, and Beraht saw stars through the tears of pain blurring his vision. He held his head in his hands, muttering every curse he could think of. Then it dawned on him that he didn't know what was going on. Cautiously, he opened his eyes—and gaped. Two things immediately struck his vision: He was in the Crystal Chamber, and von Adolwulf was glaring at him.

Well, if von Adolwulf was angry things couldn't be too wrong. "Why are we down here?"

"As you're the one who woke me up and then decided to take a stroll, I think it would make more sense if I asked
you
that." Von Adolwulf's arms hung at his side, loose but clearly he was all too ready to grab Beraht and throw him into the nearest wall.

Which, Beraht realized, was exactly what the bastard had done. "I think you damn near split my head open. Do you know how to be gentle?"

"Gentle?" von Adolwulf sneered. "You were about to ruin everything. If you'd touched that," he motioned behind him to Benji, and the perfect, round crystal he held in his hands, "as you were about to, everything would have been worse. I don't know much about what's going on, but I understand that much. Tits of the Winter Princess, Beraht! What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Beraht said with a frown, ignoring von Adolwulf's snort. "I was asleep—I think—I don't remember anymore. Though that might be more from being thrown into a wall."

Von Adolwulf sneered and stalked toward him, pulling Beraht forward. "Your head is fine. At least, you're no worse than usual. If I hadn't done so, right now you'd be responsible for something far worse than ridding these people of magic. I will never understand why everyone is so upset by that; they are better off rid of it."

"You've never had magic," Beraht snapped. "You don't understand anything about it."

"Is there something special about it?" von Adolwulf asked. He sank his hand into Beraht's hair and pulled his head back so Beraht was forced to look up at him. His other hand rested on Beraht's head just around his eye, finger and thumb opening Beraht's eye wide. "The way it makes your heart beat too fast? Your muscles ache? The bitter taste? Is it the warmth? The way it burns and makes you forget that you use it to hurt and kill? Or do you enjoy the headaches and hunger and restlessness that come when you haven't had any? Do you look forward to the day it will eventually kill you? I've never seen it, but I've heard of it—that all victims of arcen die with black eyes, and no one can tell if the red pouring from their bodies is blood or arcen."

Beraht fought a shudder, but he knew by the gleam in those jade eyes that von Adolwulf had noticed. Stars refuse the man. How did a man who eschewed it know so much about arcen? Not that it surprised him. "Let me go."

Von Adolwulf did so. "Are the Illussor any better? This," he motioned to the room, "seems even worse than your country's addiction. Krians may be good at war, but we were never guilty of such things as this."

"Oh? Do tell me how that confounded Coliseum is any better," Beraht demanded.

"I never once said I approved of the Coliseum," von Adolwulf said coolly. "It is still a far cry from what the Salharans and Illussor do."

Beraht turned away. "You play high and mighty all you want—you're as terrible as the rest of us. The only difference is that you're famous for it in three countries." He strode out of the chamber before von Adolwulf could kill him.

He heard von Adolwulf's steps and waited for the inevitable blow. None came.

Von Adolwulf fell into step alongside him, though in the dark tunnel Beraht could not see him clearly. Stars, he hated this place. Could they have designed anything more eerie? Then again if he'd been a sneak thief or someone intent on ruining the Illussor, he'd have thought twice about this tunnel. He doubted he'd have been willing to come down here completely alone. Even the darkest night wasn't as black as this. The torches were all but dead; whoever maintained them would not be checking them for some time yet.

Beraht shivered and realized that he was cold. Again. Stars he hated these cold countries!

Von Adolwulf led the way out and locked the door behind them. Beraht yawned as they walked, barely noticing anything beyond the utter stillness of the palace. Had he really walked all the way down to the Crystal Chamber in his sleep? Stars, he hoped it didn't happen again.

He continued on toward his own room when von Adolwulf stopped at his own door, but a hand around his arm halted his steps. "No," von Adolwulf said.

"Stars refuse you!" Beraht snapped. "I would like to go to sleep. If you want to continue bickering—"

Von Adolwulf shoved Beraht inside his room and locked the door. "You can't be trusted not to wander off again," he said. "You'll stay here where I can watch you until everything is finished."

"I don't think so," Beraht said. "I don't need you watching over me."

"Because you did so well sleeping by yourself."

Beraht resisted the urge to hit him. He wasn't feeling quite that stupid yet. "I'm not your prisoner anymore; I'm not sleeping any closer to you than I absolutely have to. Even next door is more than I can stand."

"Feel threatened even through a wall, Beraht?"

"Stop saying my name!" Beraht snapped. He flinched when his own word struck him. It wasn't his name. It had been forced upon him. He wasn't Beraht. Feeling sick, anxious to get
away
from the man staring at him with those too-sharp eyes, Beraht turned to flee. Von Adolwulf grabbed him and hauled him back.

"You're not going anywhere. Not unless you're one hundred percent positive that it won't happen again. Is that what you want to tell the people who have decided you're some damned hero? Tell Esta? That you ruined their lives by sleepwalking?"

Beraht tried to pull away. "Then lock the door. If I really wanted, I'm sure I could get out of here regardless."

"If your walking around in your room wakes me up, what makes you think I'd sleep through your trying to escape from in here?" von Adolwulf smirked as he removed his sword and belt, then shucked his outermost layer of clothing. "Surely you're used to sleeping with me by now,
Beraht.
"

"No one gets used to you," Beraht snapped. "I am not staying here." He hadn't even finished turning around, however, when von Adolwulf snatched him back again—and this time kept moving, using his own momentum to throw Beraht into bed.

"Stay there," von Adolwulf said. "If you try to leave again, I'll tie you down."

Beraht glared hatefully, but when he sat up it was only to remove his boots—which he threw at von Adolwulf. He seethed all the more when both were caught. "I hate you."

"You say that like I care." Von Adolwulf waited until he was satisfied Beraht wasn't going anywhere, then moved to the table near the fire and picked up a book.

Unable to muster further energy to keep protesting, Beraht tamped down on his rage until he could find a way to get von Adolwulf back and closed his eyes, determined to go to sleep—and not wake up with the back of his head banging against crystal. Stars, that had hurt. His head still ached.

*~*~*

Dieter looked up as the air in the room changed. The anger had faded. He stood up and glanced at the bed where Beraht had fallen asleep somewhere in the pile of blankets. As expected. The idiot could sleep just about anywhere once he stopped getting in a snit about it. Salharans got so touchy about where they slept—did it matter so long as they were warm and rested?

He went back to the fire and picked up his book on Illussor history. He had been hoping to find some small period of time when they had used some form of weaponry. Anything that might have devolved and which he could use to teach them proper combat. No such luck.

So it looked as though it would be harder even than getting Beraht to shut up and stand still. But that aside, the Illussor had an interesting history. It was a pity they'd chosen to rely so heavily on magic. Then again, he thought with a trace of amusement, if they'd gone the other route, it was possible Kria would have had a real problem on their hands rather than merely a persistant annoyance.

The problem of knowing how to fight aside, all the practice in the world would not solve the dilemma of having no weapons nor anyone to make them. Craftsmen worked for years, if not a lifetime, to master their skills. He doubted anyone of the necessary caliber existed in Illussor—at least not anyone that would be willing to step forward.

He closed his book with a snap and stared into the fire. Nothing he could do about it at the moment. Even leaving the palace to explore other possibilities was not an option. There were more than a few Illussor who would gladly put the full force of their abilities forward to kill the Wolf of Kria.

It made him tired. Was there— Dieter killed the thought. It was a waste of time. He stood up and set the book aside, then strode to the window. How were his men? Had the Kaiser ordered them killed? Would he force them to do something to make up for Dieter's betrayal? Not that the Kaiser knew where he was, but he would accuse Dieter of betrayal all the same.

There was movement from the bed. Dieter turned sharply around and watched as Beraht began to talk in that low voice he had been using earlier. He wondered how furious Beraht would be to learn that not only was he walking in his sleep, but talking. Dieter would save that little jewel of information until it could be used to full effect.

Beraht was speaking that nonsense again. Dieter moved toward the door, blocking it. He almost laughed when Beraht went straight to where his boots had landed after Dieter had caught and dropped them. Then he started walking toward the door and stumbled to a halt when there proved to be an obstacle.

Dieter reached out and shook him hard by the shoulders. He smirked the moment realization returned to Beraht's face.

"Shut up," Beraht snarled, swinging out to catch Dieter on the chest and jerking away when Dieter caught his wrist and held fast. "I hate you. Stars, can't I get one good night's sleep?" He rubbed his face. "Why can't we just get it over with?"

"You might try asking them in the morning," Dieter said and shoved him back toward the bed. This time he followed, sliding into the side nearest the window. Already he could see the faint, hazy gray that meant day was rapidly approaching.

He stifled a sigh. If it became necessary, he was more than capable of going without sleep, but he didn't think babysitting an idiot counted as necessary. Dieter tugged the quilt up and closed his eyes; on top of the blankets, his fingers curled around the hilt of his. A few hours sleep was better than none, and in the morning, he fully intended to find a place he could practice. He could only accomplish so much by practicing in his room. Surely there was a spare room of significant size around this place somewhere.

Dieter felt himself sliding into sleep when a sound woke him. He sat up and realized Beraht was talking in his sleep again. Why now? Why had this problem never cropped up before? Neither Matthias nor the others had mentioned that something like this might occur, so what was causing it? All he knew from Beraht's strange mutterings was that Benji apparently wanted him to make things stronger which, to Dieter's mind, meant worse.

He caught Beraht as he tried to leave the bed, dragging him down and pinning him there when Beraht began to struggle. He cracked Beraht once, hard, on the face with his open palm.

Beraht's eyes changed from a distant, from a hazy gleaming to a full on bright yellow glow. "I'm not sure what I hate more," he said. "That this keeps happening, or that you're somehow involved."

"If you want to ruin everything," Dieter said, letting him go and returning to his side of the bed, "Next time do not wake me up while you're doing it."

Beraht muttered something under his breath then spoke more clearly. "Since when do you care, anyway? Shouldn't it be right up there with revenge for you? Letting me ruin everything?"

"Why should I make an entire country suffer for my revenge? I know I'm a bastard, but even I have my limits." Dieter shot him a scathing look.