Divided (65 page)

“He never wanted to hurt Telandus or anyone in it.  He just
came here to get away from the life of being a prince.  He lived here, he did
nothing.”  Calis’s words were frigid, and Lavus seemed to be getting angrier by
the second.

Finally, Calis’s father flung his fist to the side,
thrusting it through the air in a grandiose gesture.  “Telandus does not accept
cowards from Cathalar, who couldn’t handle the responsibilities that were
handed to them.  Apparently, this child rubbed off on you.”

“He’s stronger and braver than anyone in Telandus will ever
be,” Calis snapped back.  He would defend Taeru, now that he had nothing to
lose from it.  But he wished he could defend him physically.  The thought of
Taeru, restrained and helpless in the dungeon, made Calis shiver with anguish. 

Lavus struck him at the accusation, and for some reason, a
grim satisfaction accompanied the bite of the pain in his already throbbing
cheek.  Calis laughed, a hard, angry sound.  “You get angry because you know it
is true.  You could never have left your life of luxury to go live somewhere
you weren’t welcome.”  Once again, his father’s fist slammed against his face. 
Calis just laughed another time.  Lavus growled with frustration, and then the
man stepped forward and seized Calis by the collar.

“Keep talking, boy, and I will force you to watch as I break
every bone in your precious little Cathalari’s body.”  Calis flinched away from
the threat, and he said no more.  His jaw felt so clenched that it may just
fold up into the rest of his face.  After a few moments of silence, Lavus
continued.  “As I said, I will worry about you later.  I will not kill you.  I
will punish you appropriately, so you can properly understand the mistakes you
have made.  Until that time, you will be confined to your room and treated as a
prisoner.”

The words were like a punch, every single one of them, to
Calis’s chest.  Agony coursed through him, renewed at the thought.  He would be
confined to his room—unable to even provide verbal support to Taeru, while they
did whatever they wanted to his defenseless lover.  He fought relentlessly
against the guards, until something hit him hard and fast in the back of the
head.  His head swam instantly and he sagged, feeling the arms that gripped him
again.  “Father,” Tareth said, “he killed thirteen men!  He killed them in the
name of Cathalar!  Surely, he ought to be hanged!”

Lavus glanced across at his other son.  Calis didn’t even
give his brother the satisfaction of a glare.  A hanging would be no better
than his promised punishment—after all, if Calis were dead, then he would have
no chance of helping Taeru.  “Thirteen men,” Lavus said, “that is quite a
feat.”

“He deserves death, Father,” Tareth persisted. 
You
imbecile.  You haven’t the foggiest idea how to manipulate people.  How you
managed to trick Lee and I is beyond me.  Though, perhaps Lee knew the entire
time.

As Lavus seemed to consider this, the subject of Calis’s
thoughts spoke up.  “After what Tareth managed to accomplish, so subtly and
cunningly, you ought to take his advice to heart, your majesty.  He will make a
fine king soon enough.”

There—the very pinnacle of how to manipulate a man into
doing precisely what he wanted.  Lavus’s eyes widened indistinctly as he
glanced at his youngest son.  His jaw set into a hard line.  “He will probably
never get there, Keiichi—this is a fluke.  I am the king now, and I say Calis
is confined to his quarters for the duration of our interrogation and detainment
of Taeru Lassau.”  The agony of hearing the words came with a realization.

Finally, Calis allowed his eyes to slide across to his
advisor.  He was acting impassive and disinterested.  In fact, he was acting
precisely as any of the other advisors would if their masters got into
trouble.  Because no one but Lee and Calis understood their relationship, and
despite that it appeared strange—all of that could be contributed to Calis’s
foolishness.  Perhaps Lee had not entirely abandoned Calis.  Though, the advisor’s
gaze was directed away from Calis, his jaw was clenched.

“As you say,” Lee said courteously. 

Tareth jerked his gaze to Calis, and his eyes were burning
with unending fury.  “This is a mistake, Father!”  Tareth really did not
understand Lavus at all.  After all the years that Tareth had been torn apart
by their father, Calis had expected him to know more of how to deal with him. 

Lavus glared at him, silencing him with one, steely gaze. 
Calis had to keep himself from rolling his eyes.  These people—these fools—were
going to be the very ones causing bodily harm to Taeru soon.  He had to do
something.  Then, another force at the back of his head had him drowning in
half-consciousness.  “Go attend to your prisoner, Tareth, I will be on
shortly.  First, I need to talk to your mother about your brother’s…
activities.  Guards, keep men outside his room at all times, and let no one
enter but me.  And get a messenger, I think Veyron will be interested to know
of his son’s whereabouts.”

“Taeru,” Calis growled softly before he was hit another
time.

“Aleia was angry, and the skies ran red with her intent.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.i

The biting sensation pulsed through his brain as he stared
up at the obelisk, and it laughed at him—mocked him for allowing this to befall
him.  The biting worsened, though, and the tendrils couldn’t even keep Taeru
where he was.  His body was startled awake as pain exploded across his
consciousness.  He cried out, glancing towards his hand, where the pain seemed
to be originating.  A larger man held his hand, bending back his fourth finger
without mercy until it snapped.  Taeru cried out again.  “Lovely, you’re
awake.”  The man slapped his cheek hard, and Taeru winced.  “So, Taeru Lassau,
we’ve got a few hundred questions for you.  If you answer them well, then…
we’ll see what we can do about keeping your pain to a minimum.”

Taeru’s lips pressed into a hard line.  He closed his eyes. 
He would answer nothing, and he would hope that by some miracle Alyx, Juliet,
and the others were left out of this.  He wondered where Calis was, but surely
the prince had come to his senses—surely, realizing that there was nothing to
do, he would leave the matter be. The man before him laughed.  “I’ll be right
back,” the man said cheerfully.  Then, without warning, his fist collided with
Taeru’s already aching cheek.

As the man left, Taeru took the moment to assess his
situation.  His arms were bound behind him, behind a chair that he was sitting
in.  His legs were each tied to a leg of the wooden chair.  The room around him
was entirely dark, and he was completely alone.  He assumed he was in the
dungeon, or some part of it.  He closed his eyes.

Taeru had avoided the Cathalar dungeons when he had lived in
the castle.  They had always been so dark, dank, and filled with people that he
wished didn’t have to be there.  His father did not wrongly imprison people,
but he had never liked the idea of people being locked and chained.  Well, now
he was getting the experience for himself.  He worked with his resolve,
realizing that he could say nothing, and hoped that Cathalar did not get itself
involved.  If they did, then Taeru would have single-handedly caused the war. 
What a tremendous failure.

The room’s atmosphere pressed down on him.  His shirt had
been conveniently removed, but he was happy to see that his pants were still
firmly in place.  Despite trying to keep calm, his mind kept returning to Alyx,
Juliet, Aela, and Leif.  They would be involved in this, and he knew it.  He
only hoped they had sense enough to defend themselves.  No matter what they had
to do, be it comply or escape. 

Taeru made a mental assessment of his current injuries, and
he was sure that the list would increase soon.  His face throbbed incessantly,
bruised, and there was a gash near the right side of his temple.  His shoulder
and calf still burned from the pierce of the arrow, his ribs and back both hurt
equally, and now four of his fingers, it appeared, had been snapped.  Not the
best condition Taeru had been in, but he could definitely take a little
interrogation before his mind was entirely lost.

His bindings were tight, though, and his wrists were already
sore from them.  The rope bit into his skin without forgiveness.  He tilted his
head back, taking deep, heavy breaths, and he was reminded of the injury he’d
forgotten.  The slit across his throat remained, and he decided that he would
not tilt his head back again.

After another few moments of trying to regain his breath, a
door behind him opened, and he could hear footsteps.  “Deceiving my brother,”
the disembodied voice chided, “no easy feat.  But you managed it with
incredible prowess, your
highness
.”  A blow struck the back of Taeru’s
head, and he suppressed his cry.

Taeru needed to make sure that Calis remained out of this. 
He didn’t need to bring the prince any further into it than he had already
involved himself.  “Yes, well, Tsrali kind don’t have a reputation for being
intellig—”  Tareth moved around to the front of him and caught his face with a
strong hook. Taeru’s mouth twitched in pain.

“Well, you aren’t going to fool this Tsrali.  And I am going
to take great pleasure in extracting all the information you withheld from my
brother.”  Tareth was easing on a pair of knuckles over his fingers, and they glinted
beneath the light of the torch Tareth had brought into the room.  “Before we
start, let me introduce you to what kind of pain not answering properly will
lead to.”  Tareth flung his arm back, and before Taeru had time to flinch, the
knuckles crashed into his face.  They were hard, strong, grinding against his
flesh—and puncturing it.  He could feel blood beading along the tiny wounds. 
The knuckles scratched along Taeru’s face before Tareth pulled his fist back. 
“And that, my friend, is just the traditional style torture.  There will be
more.”

Taeru said nothing, and he maneuvered his jaw to retain the
feeling as pain echoed through it.  It hurt, more than he expected.  “Have you
had any contact with your family in the time that you have been here?” Tareth
asked sharply.

“No,” Taeru answered.  The knuckles slammed into his face
again, and this time, he couldn’t contain the weakened cry that escaped his
lips.  “I’m not lying.  I didn’t intend to cause any harm to Telandus.” 
Another blow and Taeru blinked hard.  This was unfortunate—he was cooperating
and getting hit.  “I’m telling you the truth!  I left Cathalar to get away.”

“You lying, pathetic miscreant.  I am not as stupid as my
brother.  Tell me why you’re here!  Tell me who you’ve spoken with!”  This
time, Tareth hit Taeru before he got the chance to open his mouth.  The blood
caused from the tiny marks in his skin accumulated, causing streaks to run down
his bruising face. 

Taeru let out a gasping breath.  “I’m not!  This was never
about Telandus!  I just…”  Once again, the knuckles slammed into him.  This
time, they clawed against his mouth, breaking open his lower lip with ease. 
After a few more blows, Taeru shook his head, and Tareth drew back with an
unsatisfied snarl.

“How long have you been here?  Have you told anyone who you
are—you really are?” Tareth resumed his questions as if he hadn’t nearly
knocked Taeru out over the first one.

Taeru took a deep breath.  “No.  I knew that if I told
anyone, they would tell.” 

Another blow to his face, and Taeru’s head swam with agony. 
His consciousness was already slipping, and he was sure he hadn’t been hit that
many times.  “I asked you how long you’d been here!”

Not telling Tareth the truth seemed easier here.  After all,
Alyx and Juliet would have a better chance if any answer they gave was
considered correct.  He couldn’t risk them saying something wrong.  “A while,”
Taeru answered.  This time—he expected the strike.

“You must enjoy pain, prince,” Tareth said, and there was
mockery in his voice.  Taeru thought he might be trying to use it to mask his
frustration.  Tareth was very different from Calis, Taeru thought.  Calis would
be trying to find a way to get the information subtly, calmly, but Tareth was
coming undone easily.  “Answer me.”

“No,” Taeru answered bluntly this time.  Another crushing
blow slammed into his temple, then another to his cheek, his jaw, his chin. 
Over and over.  The beating seemed ceaseless, and Taeru found his consciousness
fading in and out.  Tareth decided to move past Taeru’s face, to his neck and
shoulders, chest and abdomen. 

When Tareth finally stopped, Taeru was choking on his own
blood.  How had Tareth lost control so quickly?  Taeru pressed his lips into a
firm line.  He found himself even more concerned about the people that he’d
gotten involved in this.  Tareth had no control, and if Taeru was right—neither
did Lavus.  Tareth grabbed the back of Taeru’s hair, yanking his head back and
worsening the gash there.  Tareth’s fingers tapped against the injury thoughtfully. 
“Oh, if you weren’t a priority of my father’s—the things that I would do to
you.”

The words were strangely frightening.  Coupled with the fact
that Taeru was the Phantom Blade—the very person Tareth had always wanted to
hurt worse than anyone.  Taeru swallowed, and he narrowed his eyes.  He wasn’t
going to show this man fear.  His vision blurred as pain circled in his head. 
“You’re bleeding,” Tareth remarked idly.  “Quite a bit.”  Once again, Tareth
drew his hand back and it collided with Taeru’s face.  “My father will be here
soon… I’m going to get a few toys to make this more fun.”

Fear twisted within Taeru, and his lips quivered as he tried
to keep it from his face.  Toys?  His entire body was aching after one round of
this, and all Tareth had done was hit him. 
Breathe,
Taeru begged
himself. 
You’re stronger than this.

As promised, Lavus entered a few moments later.  Taeru had
not had the pleasure of seeing Lavus so closely the few times that he’d
ventured into the castle—his nightmare had not done the man justice.  Lavus was
a large, broad man.  He had Calis’s height and Tareth’s shoulders.  Taeru was
sure that, had Lavus wanted to, he could have crushed Taeru with one hand.  “By
the Light, boy—I told you to wait on me.”  Lavus’s voice was harsh,
frightening, and Taeru had to work so that he didn’t flinch.

“He was being insolent,” Tareth informed ruthlessly.

Lavus didn’t look amused.  Perhaps the man wasn’t as cruel
as Taeru had originally suspected.  “The pain isn’t going to be a shock, now,
when he doesn’t answer the questions that I pose to him—you impudent whelp.” So
that was the reason Lavus wasn’t happy about it.

Tareth let out a weak, wary sound, and he offered no
consolation on what he’d done.  Rather, Lavus was the one who spoke again. 
“Get him out of that chair.  I have an idea less mindless and brutal than
punching the runt to death.  Guards!”

Taeru flinched at Lavus’s sudden call for his men.  Within
moments, there were several steps of footsteps echoing through the darkened
room.  He was thrust from the chair and onto his knees.  His bindings were undone
so quickly that he scarcely had time to realize it.  His wrists were quickly
bound again, with the same unforgiving hands as before, and a strong elbow
ensured that he didn’t try to rise from his knees.  At a glance, he saw five
heavily armed men, Tareth, and Lavus.  That was plenty to make sure that he
wouldn’t be able to escape.  While his body was thrust to and fro by their
hands, though, he was informed of just how badly his body had been damaged by
the cuts of the fist-weapon.

“Blindfold him, and then follow me,” Lavus instructed.  His
words were so cold, as though he was speaking to animals rather than men. 
Taeru’s jaw clenched as a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes, plunging him
into darkness.  Once that was done, he was hoisted back to his feet and dragged
by forceful hands in a staggering line.  Taeru tried to remember the route.  He
could tell by the change in temperature when they had left the original room,
and they walked him in a straight line, turning twice southward.  The dungeon
in this castle seemed to be comprised of many corridors.

Finally, his body was flung downwards , though before his
back reached the ground he was greeted by a hard, wooden table.  It felt wide,
though he couldn’t see to know that for certain.  His wrists were undone again,
and both arms were spread outwards, opposite of one another, and bound to the
table he was on.  His heart quickened as his ankles were bound in a similar
manner beneath him.  He was injured, spread-eagled, and blinded, defenseless in
every way, and his lips betrayed him by trembling.

Taeru could hear someone walking about deliberately, and he
suspected that the steps were meant to be heard.  His teeth ground together and
his heart rate continued to climb.  The blindfold was not removed, and thus he
remained in blackness. 

One of the guards, a few moments later, spoke in a tone that
Taeru was sure wasn’t meant to be heard.  “Sir, those could kill him.  Should
we really use that so early?”

“I have much worse planned for later, and that sounded
suspiciously like a soldier questioning his king.”  Lavus’s voice was never
kind, and it never betrayed the slightest bit of emotion—aside from anger. 
Anger, it seemed, was a constant in his voice.  In fact, his voice seemed to
embody anger itself.  Cold, measured anger.

The soldier let out a slight whimper, and Taeru was sure the
man was shaking his head.  “No, your majesty.  You misunderstand.  I was simply
hoping you would explain your thoughts.  I should not have, my apologies.”

Lavus said nothing to indicate that he forgave the man,
though he didn’t pursue the issue further.  He had grabbed an object, or
perhaps several objects, off of some far away shelf.  Taeru squirmed against the
restraints, though it did him no good.  “If you are wondering, child, my son
will come to hate you for what you did—of that, I can assure you.”  Taeru tried
to ignore the words, not wanting to think about Calis—as being in this position
made the idea of Calis that much worse.  “You know he didn’t really care about
you.  He was a child—seeking to rebel before he would be entirely engaged in
running this country.  You meant nothing to him.  When it sinks in how
completely you deceived and betrayed him, then he will hate you—just as
everyone else in Telandus does.”

The painful words gripped Taeru and threw him into a torrent
of raw emotions.  He fought them off to the best of his abilities. 

He’s right.

The voice—no, not the Magister.  The Magister couldn’t show
herself now.  Taeru would never be able to fight her off, in addition to
Lavus’s accusations.  That was too much.  Though, this sort of punishment
certainly would not have been forced upon him if he had not done something to
earn it.  Taeru flinched at the thought. 

“Nothing to say?” Lavus asked.  Taeru could visualize the sneer
that must have been on the man’s face.  Lavus must hate Taeru—hate him for what
Taeru had done to Calis.  Taeru had deceived and tricked Calis, and due to that
trickery, Calis’s opinions had been affected.  Taeru had to admit to that.  He
should have revealed his identity sooner, and Calis was sure to realize that as
well.  “Tareth.”  Lavus muttered the name brusquely.