The Gully Snipe (The Dual World Book 1) (66 page)

Encender stepped over to the desk and countered, “Well, for once, I agree with the Iisen king! It is time the Maqarans paid dearly! Perhaps you Iisenors do not care what they have done to your people... what they
would
do if given the chance, but
I
care greatly for how they have tortured and decimated
my
people over hundreds of years! If they did not wish their men to suffer, they should not have picked this fight!”

“This act makes us no better than they!” retorted Roald.

“Except they have been at it for centuries! We have a very great distance to stoop before we are as low as they!” shouted Encender, his face turning red.

Gully held up his hand, silencing both of them. “Patriarch,” said Gully, “I would be interested to hear your opinion on this, please.”

The patriarch adjusted his position in his seat uncomfortably and seemed to be of the same mind as Roald that this sort of decision was unlike Gully. He said, “We’ve discussed the choices you must make many times, Your Highness. This is one where I feel I should not interfere with you making a decision on your own.” He added, “Especially when you have not given your reason for what seems to be a rather uncharacteristic demand on your part.”

Gully looked back to Marshal Pumblennor and reiterated his order. “We blind them. Every one, Marshal.”

Roald felt like a stranger was now sitting at the desk. He had never seen such a vicious streak running through Gully before. This could not be the same person whom he had known to steal a few swallowstamps from someone, only to repay his victim a few days later when he found someone else more deserving of theft.

He began to argue, to forbid Gully from becoming something monstrous, but Gully interrupted him.

“There is a practical reason, Roald. I do not suggest this course of action out of any act of malice or spite, I swear to you. You know that I would not do that, not even to the Maqarans,” he said.

Roald thought about it for a second, then nodded that he was listening.

“The Maqarans cannot hope to overcome our gate in an assault,” Gully began to explain. “It is too constricted an area and extremely well-fortified for an attack on the front. However... when we begin to release the Maqaran soldiers back to their side, there will be a large number of able-bodied soldiers on
both
sides of our gate, in a tight area. If they rise up and fight then, it will be chaos and we stand a good chance of losing control of the gate. That is what the Maqarans are looking for. That is the advantage they seek. We take it away from them by making sure the soldiers we have in our care can never be used against us. Not today. Not ever.”

Roald considered what Gully had said. It was true, even without the plan being in place in advance, the Maqaran soldiers being released would quickly figure out the advantage they could gain and how easily they could take control of the gate if they suddenly rose up, even if they lost a large number of their own men in the process.

Gully prompted, “That is why they gather so many soldiers on their side. They know they have a narrow moment of an advantage to invade us still. We
must
blind them, Roald.”

Roald frowned, but he nodded in reluctant agreement.

Gully said gently, “Roald, I must know that you see it this way. I will
not
force this on you.”

It was a savage, brutal act to Roald, but he knew Gully was thinking, as always, with absolutely perfect strategic insight. The Maqarans were counting on the soft, humanitarian treatment of their soldiers to give them a second chance after their previous failure. He could also see, now, how much pain it caused his dear brother to issue such a brutal order. The responsibility for this butchery would become yet another wound the two of them would carry and secretly share with one another. Wounds that only they would understand.

Roald ran both of his hands through his dark hair in frustration and sighed aloud. “Aye, Gully, aye. I do. I do not like it, as I know you do not, either. But with that number of soldiers waiting on their side, if they gain control of our gate, we would lose East End in a day, Maqara would gain a defensible foothold inside our borders, and there would not be a way to send them back, ever.”

He felt ill in the pit of his stomach as he did so, but Roald looked to Pumblennor and confirmed the order, “You will see to it that each Maqaran soldier is blinded before being sent back, Marshal.”

The glance he shared with Gully afforded silent confirmation that they would together share the burning of new wounds and the shedding of bitter tears over this later.

~~~~~

Roald stepped forward again, only to remind himself this was not the time. He pulled his foot back and kept his place where he was standing next to Thaybrill. A short distance from him, he had never seen Gully looking so pensive. So much so that Gully seemed to be more a statue than a person, standing quietly, unassumingly, against a set of large rocks near where the pass let out into the open.

Gully was in his thief’s clothes so that he did not draw any attention, and after giving everyone else strict orders not to kneel or salute or otherwise pay him any respects, he stood by himself, his eyes watching intently from underneath his chaperon hood. Roald had wanted to be near Gully as the slaves made their way, one by one, back into the land they doubtfully expected to see ever again. Many others had wanted to be with Gully, too, offering him support and comfort as best they could — Gallun and Gellen, the patriarch, Abella Jule, Thaybrill... the list went on. Gully had politely declined, and Roald understood why. He knew what this moment was to Gully. It was a sacred moment to his beloved foster brother, the best chance he had had in over ten years to see his father again, and Roald knew his brother would want no one and nothing distracting from it. Roald had helped pull people away from him so that he could have the time to himself to watch carefully at each face that emerged from their nightmare.

Word had spread through East End and Lohrdanwuld that many who disappeared over the years would be returning this day, and many of the families of the missing had made the trek to the Maqaran Pass to hopefully reclaim those that they had lost. Not far from where the pass opened up into the fields at the foot of the mountains, these people gathered and waited — mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters, wives and husbands, and even sometimes children now years older than when a parent disappeared.

Roald and Thaybrill kept a respectful distance while members of the Kingdom Guard helped the freed slaves back into Iisen. The swordsmen reassured each survivor that they were home and safe, and then led them to where anxious family members were waiting so the happy reunion could happen. Or, in other cases, gave them food and rest and reassurance when no family or loved ones were waiting anxiously for them.

Roald spent some of his time in silent attention, watching with relief when someone returning was reunited with those that had been left behind. Most of his time, though, he watched Gully. Were it not for the occasional breeze blowing the hem of his cloak and chaperon, Gully would easily be mistaken as a part of the rocks he almost disappeared into. Roald found it difficult to stay away from his brother and would have given anything to wait with him. He would have done anything to comfort him and let him know he was not alone.

It did not help matters that Thaybrill was unconsciously brushing up against his arm every so often, almost making it hard for him to breathe each time the prince did so. Roald had tried to make Gully understand how had he felt two days earlier, but in the confusion of Krayell’s attack, Roald was not sure he spoke any words that made any sense at all. He felt his heart bleeding out all around him for too many reasons, but he stood still and let it do so as a good soldier should.

Roald watched as a girl, younger than he, leaving Maqaran captivity behind with a small child, barely aged a year, in tow. His jaw set and he wondered at what sort of people would get a slave pregnant, and then turn the child away. He found himself paying special attention to each man that emerged, especially any one that was even near the age that Gully’s father would be, to see if he noticed and recognized Gully, or if Gully suddenly recognized him. But each time, those returning barely even looked towards Gully.

Aside from the happy receptions by family members not very far away, everyone else stayed silent and respectful for what the freed men and women had been through.

Roald sighed, and Thaybrill grabbed his arm lightly, causing his body to stiffen and his eyes to close momentarily at the touch. Thaybrill whispered, “It almost kills me to have to watch Gully go through this by himself.”

“He truly does prefer it this way. When his father appears, he will want for just the two of them to have a moment together. Gully will want to make sure that it is really happening,” said Roald.

Roald fully expected Ollon to look terrible when he arrived. He had noticed that the other balmors that had come back to Iisen looked the worst of all. Their features were drawn and their skin was sallow. Their hands were so bony as to be claw-like. Worst of all were their eyes, which were haunted and empty. Their eyes looked like there was no one behind them any longer. Raybb had explained that this was what happened when a silver binding was left in place long enough to permanently sever their balmor nature. If these were the poor creatures that it resulted in, Roald could only describe it as one of the most inhuman tortures he had ever seen.

The line of people emerging from the pass continued in a slow trickle as the sun drifted slowly over towards the west. Gully made no move and he did not look towards anyone else.

A swordsman approached Roald and said discreetly, “Lord Marshal, these are the last ones emerging now.”

Roald flinched and he and Thaybrill exchanged a grim glance.

“The Maqarans are demanding their soldiers back as agreed,” said the guard.

Roald took a deep breath and said quietly, “Send word to them, they owe us a list of every single Balmorean or Iisenor ever taken into slavery. Once that list is provided, we will return their soldiers the following morning, alive as promised.”

The soldier took his leave and Roald gritted his teeth for a moment while he gathered his strength for the bad news. He stepped over to where Gully was standing by the boulders. He placed his hand gently on Gully’s back and whispered into his ear, “That is all of the slaves, Gully. I’m sorry… but there are no more that are returning.”

Gully did not move for a while and said nothing. Instead, his head dropped and he stared down at the ground, at the boots he was wearing. When he finally did turn to face Roald, his face held little expression other than emptiness and tightened lips. Despite Gully’s stoic expression, Roald noticed that his brother’s hands were trembling slightly. It took all of his strength to not grab Gully and hold him close and cry with him.

Gully eventually said, “Well, many lives and families were mended today, and that is all that matters,” but his voice lacked the conviction of the words he spoke.

Roald reached out to him and said, “Gully...” but he didn’t know what else to say. He had no idea what he could say that would ease the pain that had sought release after ten long years. He looked into Gully’s eyes and his heart began to shatter for his brother, but Gully’s face was no more than a blank. He did not cry or even frown. To Roald, he looked no more than numb.

Gully leaned forward until his forehead rested on Roald’s shoulder. Roald fought his feelings back and left Gully’s head where it rested until he could stand it no more. He then began to do what Gully could not — he began to cry for him. He put his arms around Gully and held him while the tears slipped from his eyes. In the distance, he could still hear the joyful sounds of others who had been reunited with their missing loved ones.

It was only a short moment before Gully pulled back from him. Gully’s eyes were dry, but neither did he look Roald in the eye. He patted Roald on the shoulder a few times and the soft words cracked in his throat, “I’m going back to the manor house. Please, Roald... do me the favor of bringing the list to me, if they send it as promised.”

Gully swallowed hard, and Roald watched him turn and walk off. Amidst all the other people, the guardsmen and family members and curiosity seekers, Gully shambled away slowly. Thaybrill and others came up to Roald and joined him as they all watched Gully.

The king walked quietly past where the few left were still reuniting with their families and stood for a moment to watch their joy. They watched as Gully walked to the area where the soldiers were taking care of the other freed slaves, the ones with no loved ones to claim them. Again, he paused to watch a while, silently. Several of these solitary ones looked to Gully, hoping maybe he was a family member that had come for them, but none show any recognition of him and ignored him after a moment.

Roald’s heart felt crushed as he watched Gully take to the road leading back to East End by himself with sagging shoulders and his father’s boots dragging in the dust of the trodden road. He watched helplessly at his brother’s misery and disappointment.

Thaybrill clutched at Roald’s arm again and whispered, “It pains me terribly to see him face this moment, Roald. What are we to do?”

Roald shook his head and murmured, “I wish I knew, Prince Thaybrill. I wish that I knew.”

Gallun and Gellen tried to follow after the king, but Roald cautioned them, “Keep him safe, but keep your distance, please. He needs to be alone with his thoughts for a time.”

It wasn’t until the beginning of the moongloam before the Maqarans sent the list through the pass as required. Roald took it and rushed back by horse to the manor house. In the study, he found Gully staring into the fireplace while Gallun and Gellen sat nearby in wolf form. Thaybrill sat quietly with the king, with Wyael on the other side. The patriarch, both human and ocelot, were in one of the large chairs. The room was silent with the pallid mood.