Divided (66 page)

There was a biting of his flesh, and it burned.  The bite worsened,
and Taeru realized that Tareth had cut his wrist.  The knife bit in just
beneath his palm, and then it dug, creating a path up Taeru’s arm—agonizing and
relentless—until it reached his elbow.  Then, Tareth made a quick incision into
Taeru’s palm, easing up all five of his fingers with the knife, before he ran
another jagged line up his arm.  They both stemmed from the same central point,
both connecting to the pattern on his palm.  Warm, sticky blood oozed from the
wound, and Taeru took slow, deliberate breaths to ensure that he managed the
pain properly.  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Tareth asked, and there was a sadistic
amusement in his voice.

Taeru set his jaw, and his lips pressed into a line.  Tareth
moved to his other arm, repeating the same process.  He could have hurried
through it, but he took his time with every cut—slowly easing up Taeru’s arm,
deepening as he went.  The knife felt as though it were made of poison. 
Taeru’s breath broke once, and a weak mewl escaped him before he pulled himself
back into forced steadiness.  Aside from Tareth’s low chuckle, the room was
entirely silent.

Next, Tareth moved down Taeru’s body, using the knife to
create a shallow line along his chest.  He broke momentarily, easing over the
waist of Taeru’s pants, before he pressed the blade back into the skin—cutting
open the fabric of his captive’s pants.  Reaching Taeru’s foot, Tareth cut into
the bottom of it, using the same gradual, slowness to move up to his knee. 
Much the same as his arms had been treated, Tareth drew two lines from both
feet. 

The slowness, the anticipation of what would come from these
wounds felt nearly as powerful as the pain that they caused directly.  Taeru
swallowed several times, trying to force his body to calm down, but sweat
poured from his brow, just as the blood poured from his wounds.  “Those cuts,”
Lavus began cheerlessly, “will allow the flora I hold in my hand to latch onto your
body.  The blood will draw its roots out, and they will nestle inside the cuts. 
The pain they create will be excruciating.  The roots will release a poison
into your system that will be so encompassing, that your body will not respond
to your mind.  And eventually, your mind will be so clouded that the only
thought you will have will be begging for mercy.”

Despite his best efforts to avoid doing so, Taeru flinched. 
He’d heard of the plant, and he had been told that it was used in interrogation
and torture rituals.  It was called Prisoner’s Bane, for obvious reasons.  The
technique was usually followed by the adding of insects that inhabited the
plants and entered into the prisoner’s body—tearing him apart from the inside
out.  Taeru deeply wished that he hadn’t ever learned that.  “Now, I am only
going to ask you this once… what did my son tell you about our family?”

After a few slow, frantic breaths, Taeru worked the
quivering out of his voice long enough to respond.  “Nothing.  He told me
nothing.”  He sounded much calmer than he felt, in fact, he sounded
disinterested.

“I know you’re lying, child.  You expect me to think that
you never asked him for information on my family?”  Lavus just laughed darkly. 
“I did say only once.”  Following Lavus’s movement towards him, a strange,
prickling sensation occurred along Taeru’s left wrist.  Then, the prickling
worsened, and he could feel the plant expanding against his skin, easing its
way into the jagged lines up his arm. 

The prickling persisted for a few moments, and Taeru
wondered if that insignificant tingling would be the end of it.  He could feel
the root, moving slowly up until it touched the end of the cut.  Then,
abruptly, there it was.  A black, unending torrent of agony.  His entire arm
felt as though it had been lit on fire, or rather, millions of tiny, burning
needles were puncturing his skin.  A cry of shock escaped him, and his mouth
hung open in disbelief. 

The pain was excruciating, causing a whirl of confusion to
run through his mind.  “I can make this pain worse, little boy—and if you fail
to answer all of my questions, then after I put these on your arms and legs, I
will make the pain
so
much worse.”  The insects, Taeru reminded
himself.  Though, part of him wished his mind would be silent.  “Let’s try
another one,” Lavus sounded a little colder with every word.  “Tell me the size
of Cathalar’s army.”

The first question that Taeru truly could not answer—would
not answer.  He swallowed hard and closed his eyes.  “Shouldn’t you know that,
your majesty?  Considering how much you push for war?”  Lavus snarled, and the
prickling sensation was against Taeru’s other wrist nearly instantly.  The pain
followed soon after, and this time it seemed worse, dragging his mind further
and further from rationality.

Lavus was irritated, but he laughed once he’d let the pain
run its course for a few moments.  “This will only get harder, child.  Here’s
an easy one… tell me one, tiny, weakness in Cathalar’s defense.  Keep in mind,
I’m cycles from Cathalar, but you, my helpless, little, fallen prince---are at
my immediate mercy.”

“No,” he said after a considerable amount of time.  “N-No. 
No weaknesses.  Don’t go to war.  You’ll die.”  The words spilled from his
lips.  He knew it would do him no good, but the thought of the war frightened
him, even in this state.

With a grunt, Lavus placed the next plant on Taeru’s ankle. 
This time, his body cringed away from the prickling sensation.  Terror shot up
through his body as he tried to prepare for the onslaught of pain that would
follow shortly.  The preparations did little good as the pain tore through his
unprotected body like a knife.  Now nearly his entire body was subjected to the
pain, and his brain knew it.  He tried to clench his fingers, but the roots of
the plants stopped him.

“Fine,” Lavus murmured depreciatively.  Taeru realized
dismally that he was keening, softly, but the noise was there, and he could not
force himself to be silent.  “We will start slower.  You’ve been seen with two
male travelers recently.  What are their names?”

Aela and Leif.  Taeru immediately regretted thinking those
names, and he quickly worked to banish them from his mind.  He opened and
closed his mouth, trying to stop the keening—trying to ensure that he would
give away no information.  “They’re nobodies,” he finally managed.  “Their
names are insignificant.”

At last, the final flower was placed on Taeru ankle and his
body was wrapped in a cocoon of never-ending pain.  He tried to swallow, tried
to move, but his body was kept still, and that stationary feeling made the pain
intensify.  “I ought to think that you would give me those, then.  As, you must
be in a tremendous amount of pain right now.”

Taeru could hear himself whimpering, and he knew there was
no denying that he was in a great deal of pain.  He would have taken Tareth’s
beating a hundred times if it would have spared him this agony.  His body
shivered—the only movement that he was allowed.  “Alright.  Looks like you’ve
made it to phase two, rat.  You know you won’t last much longer.  Wouldn’t it
be easier to tell me now, while you still possess reasoning skills, than to
wait until you’re sputtering answers like a drowning canary?”

The threat was lost on him.  His mind already felt as far
from him as it was going to get.  Held in its current position by agonizing
sensations that refused to give him even a moment’s peace.  “Let’s get more
general—give me one, one resource that Cathalar needs—that they have trouble
obtaining.”

Cathalar had been struggling to make ends meet as far as
stone was concerned when Taeru had left.  He wished he would stop hearing the
answers to these questions in his mind.  He may have lost enough control to
keep those answers within the confines of his mind if this kept up.  His
consciousness was fading, though, which he considered a blessing.  “I told
you.  Nothing.  You can’t beat Cathalar.  I’m not saying this for them.”

“This is my favorite part,” Lavus said.  He sounded
emotionless, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation.  Taeru knew then
that he had been wrong earlier, Lavus was every bit as cruel as his reputation
implied. 

Nothing happened for several seconds, other than the rapid
acceleration of Taeru’s heart rate.  He was sure that it would burst from the
pounding soon, that his chest would cave in from the incessant beating that it
received.  Taeru could hear Lavus moving about, and when he focused, he could
hear the breathing of a few of the other men in the room.  He tried to focus on
anything other than what was soon to follow.

Then, a sort of exploding hurt erupted along his arm.  This
pain was different, not as concentrated, and more tangible.  His arm felt as
though it was being ripped apart, as though a saw was ripping through his skin
mercilessly.  The saw expanded outwards, though its reach never seemed to
stop.  The needles from before were replaced by knives, cutting and tearing at
his skin.  Before, he had been unable to clench his fingers due to the root of
the plant, now he wasn’t sure that his mind could command his convulsing arm
any longer. 

Moments passed incessantly slowly, and the pain increased. 
The steady increase seemed impossible, as every moment felt as though it held
the most agonizing of all sensations.  But steadily, it exacerbated,
unremittingly.  He was unaware that he had begun quietly keening once again
until a cough ran up his throat, caused by unprecedented liquid, and caused him
to choke.  When he did, he could feel as blood spilled all across his face.  A
few more times, each accompanied by sprays of blood.  “Are you going to kill
him here?” someone asked.

Lavus didn’t answer them, instead another question
followed.  “Give me a weakness, boy.  Give me a weakness before I tear your
tiny, insignificant body to pieces.”

Fight it,
Taeru begged himself,
give him nothing. 
It’s the least you can do.

“He loved him once, and he loved him still.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.ii

Aela knew there was a problem.  Leif was so tense as the sun
worked its way into the sky that she could have mistaken him for a knot, or
rather, a very intricate system of knots.  He had said nothing to her, and when
she had asked him for his reason—he had become angry and cold.  Something was
amiss, and she knew it.  Though, she could not figure out what it was.  The
problem was, the longer she went without knowing, the more she connected it to
the worst possible scenario.  Her brother.

She wondered if Taeru was in trouble.  If that was why Leif
was acting so very, very on edge.  He seemed paranoid, and he hadn’t gone out
like he usually did to check around the city.  Nor had he let Aela leave, under
the simple pretense of a bad feeling.  “You know, I’m just getting even more
worried by your silence.”  Her words were clipped, as her own agitation had
risen throughout the course of the moon.

“I apologize,” Leif murmured.  There was none of his usual
humor within the tone, though, and she could sense his wariness.  “It’s just my
mind working overtime.  I’m sure nothing will come of it.”  Once again, his
words left her with nothing.  An empty shell of a problem that she was free to
imagine. 

Not to mention, Leif had positioned himself by the door, as
though he were waiting for someone to walk through it.  He was waiting for
something, though he could have just as easily been listening to the other
side.  As there were no windows in the room, there was no way of knowing what
was on the outside.  “You’re pale.  Stop trying to do everything on your own,”
she hissed.  His eyes flickered over to her, but there was no weakening of his
resolve.

“I haven’t,” he said simply.  “You are here with me, and
therefore you’re entire argument is silly.”  There was a sort of loathing in
his voice, and her heart lurched at the idea.  Did Leif hate himself for
allowing her to come here? 

Her eyes softened, and she took a few steps towards him. 
She would have to make this right.  This was her burden to bear, not Leif’s,
and not Taeru’s.  Yet, they both seemed to blame themselves for her appearance
in Telandus.  “I did what I did without any input from you.  You have been
nothing but helpful and wonderful this entire time.  Please, don’t blame
yourself.”  Her words were soft, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard herself so
gentle.

This caught his attention.  His dark, blue eyes widened as
he watched her for a few moments.  A flush took hold of his cheeks when he
looked away.  “I appreciate that.  I have to keep you safe, though.”  His words
were low, promising something more.

She could admit it now, as well.  She wanted more.  She
desperately wanted more from Leif Firenz, and there would never be another man
that she saw so perfectly.  He was everything she needed, she’d come to
realize.  The only problem was finding an alright time to tell him that, and
her brother had interrupted the last moment they had shared. 
What about
now?
Some bold part of her mind asked her.

Acting entirely on instinct, she spoke.  “Listen, I know I
have always been a little hostile towards you—I know you think I’m mad, and
certainly difficult to handle, but I want…”  His eyes were focused solely on
her, and she could feel electricity rising in the air.  But then, there was a
loud noise from downstairs.

A slamming sound rang through the entire inn, and then
voices, louder than any of the others, sounded over the ruckus.  “We are going
to search the rooms!”  Telandan guards, Aela realized.  She knew them almost
instantly.  Her heart sank.  They must be here for Leif and her, and if they
were… that meant that Taeru…

A horrified whimper escaped her lips, but Leif had started
forward and seized her by the hand.  Anguish moved through her, rendering her
body next to worthless.  She had known that something was amiss.  There had
been a fear in his eyes last moon, and now-now… oh, she couldn’t bear to
imagine it.  “Come, now,” Leif demanded. 

Aela shook her head.  No, they would find a way to free her
brother.  That bloody bastard—Calis Tsrali had caused this, and she knew it. 
But she would make sure that her brother stayed safe.  She hadn’t come all the
way to Telandus to let him die.  Running backwards, she grabbed her book,
pulling on her cloak and threw Leif his.  “They’ll know what we look like,” she
said quickly.

Leif nodded and pulled the cloak on quickly.  “Right, now
come on,” he commanded again.  She moved towards the door as Leif thrust it
open. They spilled into the hallway, running to the window at the end of the
hallway.  The window was open, and there was a small awning outside.  “Jump,”
Leif said quickly.  Not having time to fuss over who got out first, Aela pulled
herself over the seal and out of the window.  She hit the awning hard and then
slid onto the ground with a thud.

Leif followed her shortly, and her heart breathed a little
easier as they were both out of the building.  She considered what was left in
the room, and she was happy to know that nothing of value would be there. 
“What’s happened, Leif?” she hissed.  He glared at her for saying his name, and
she offered him an apologetic glance.  Taeru gnawed on her mind, for she knew
that he was in trouble.

The book felt heavy in her arms as they moved around the
side of the building.  There, seven horses stood, waiting for men that had gone
inside.  All the men, though, had not gone inside.  Several of them were
walking about the perimeter, with a determined look in their eyes.  Leif let
out a sharp breath, and then he grabbed Aela’s hand and started in the other
direction.  “The place will be crawling with guards,” Leif said shortly.  “I’ll
explain soon, but for now—we have to find somewhere to hide.”

With Leif’s guidance, they moved towards the alleyways of Dark
District.  Aela’s mind was racing painfully as she imagined all the things
Lavus would do to Taeru.  Taeru would be tortured, and he would be tortured
without mercy.  This was Calis’s fault, and she knew it.  She hated the
prince—hated him with her entire soul.  Her brother had trusted him!  And Calis
had betrayed Taeru.  Tears welled in her eyes as she followed Leif.  “Don’t cry,”
Leif pleaded.  “Please, don’t.”

She wasn’t even sure how Leif knew that she was crying, but
she tried to stifle her tears for his sake.  The conversation they’d had must
have been relevant, far more so than Aela had originally thought.  She should
never have let him talk her into leaving that room—she would have kept Taeru
safe.  As Leif predicted, guards were everywhere.  They were speaking with
random stall owners, and the people were all clearly baffled.  Aela thought
once of Alyx and Juliet—the two that had taken care of Taeru in her absence.

Leif’s hand holding hers was the only thing rooting her to
reality.  If he had not been there, steadying her, then she would have been
whisked away to her own personal torture.  Nothing good would have come of that,
and she knew it.  “I wish we could get to the stables,” Leif murmured, “but the
gates will surely be blocked.”

“We can’t run,” Aela whispered, horrified. 

As they moved along the area, Aela could sense the unrest
growing.  It wasn’t just Leif and she who felt strange.  There was a weird,
intensity tearing through Dark District.  She couldn’t understand it, but it
was filling her body with adrenaline, and a confidence that she had previously
lacked.  “Go to Juliet’s,” Aela demanded.  “We need to make sure they’re
alright.”

Leif scoffed at her.  “I never intended to run.”  The way he
spoke, Aela was certain that she had deeply offended him.  She ought to have
known better than to have ever expected Leif Firenz to run from a possible
fight.  “I just wanted a horse.  Though, good idea, they might need our help,”
Leif agreed.  “Just don’t get caught.”

They headed towards the healer’s house with renewed
purpose.  The guards were too busy trying to get information, and very few of
them were actually looking around for Leif and Aela.  Aela had never seen so
many noblemen in a commoner district before.  Too bad the cause was such a
terrible one, she thought.  Using alleyways, they managed to get within sight
of the healer’s home without any incident.

It was as they reached the house, though, as it grew closer
and closer—that the incident erupted.  At first, Aela thought nothing of it. 
There was a fight, a simply growing unrest between one of the men that the
guards were talking to.  The man seemed angry, and he pulled away from the
guard when the man tried to advance on him.  Leif hurried behind a building to
watch, clearly deeming it more interesting than Aela had.

“Why are you going around asking for information about him?”
the man snapped.  He sounded angry, and none of the usual fear with which
commoners dealt with noblemen was present.  The man seemed stronger than the
guard.

In fact, the guard shrank back a little at the tone.  “He is
a traitor.  He’s from Cathalar, you old fool,” the guard finally growled back. 
“You withhold information that you know about him, then you are a traitor as
well.”

The man laughed, a long, hollow laugh.  His grin was visible
from Aela and Leif’s distance.  The two of them glanced at one another, and
Aela’s fears about Taeru were confirmed.  What were they doing to him?  Across
the way, though, the old man spoke.  “Well, then you might as well call me a
traitor.  That boy’s done more for me than any of you pathetic guardsmen have.”

Aela felt a swell of pride.  This man probably didn’t even
know Taeru was the Phantom Blade, and yet he respected Taeru enough to keep
quiet.  Even in the face of certain death.  “Alright, then,” the guard hissed. 
He yanked the man around and forced him against a nearby wall.  Then, though, a
younger woman jumped forward and grabbed the guard, clawing at his eyes with
her fingernails.

The guards eyes were damaged as he staggered away.  Other
guards came to the rescue at once, but a small group of commoners joined the
fight as well.  The brouhaha was enough to cause Leif to shake his head. 
“Impressive, Taeru,” he whispered under his breath, before grabbing Aela by the
hand.  “We have to hurry.”

As they neared Juliet’s house, Aela could see a guard out
front already.  She let out a long hiss, clenching her fists as they both came
to a stop.  Juliet was out front, and she seemed to be cooperating well enough
with the man questioning her.  Leif ducked behind a few crates nearby, watching
the scene curiously.  “I’m sure he told them to do whatever necessary to protect
themselves,” Leif said.

“What about him?” Aela hissed.  “What about protecting him?”

Leif let out a hollow laugh, and then he shook his head in pretend
amusement.  “He never has known anything about his own safety.  He would give
his life to better the experience of a dying plant.”  The words were true, and
Leif spoke them as though they tasted badly. 

The healer, though, seemed as though she was going to obey
Taeru’s wishes.  She was nodding, and she looked as friendly as she ever had. 
When the man glanced back at the fight that had erupted, he spoke angrily. 
Juliet frowned, and then she shook her head warily.  When the man prompted
again, there was a ghost of a smile on her lips, and she continued to shake her
head.  No, she wasn’t complying with Taeru’s wishes.  Aela felt a grim
satisfaction move through her. 

The guard jerked forward and seized the woman by the arms. 
“Leave her alone!” Aela’s body reacted instinctively.  She leapt out from
behind the crates, and only then did she realize that she still had no bow. 
Apparently, any and all weapons could be sold only to people approved to carry
them.  Aela, naturally, was not.

The guard’s head snapped to find Aela.  He shouted to the
other men, gesturing to her.  This created another large commotion.  A few of
the men that were still fighting the commoners turned to see her, and then Leif
sprang to her defense.  “I really wish you hadn’t done that,” he hissed.

“Get them!” one of the men, probably a leader, shouted. 

“Run!” Juliet cried, though the guard was still holding
her.  Leif turned away, and Aela understood.  If they tried to do anything but
run, they would all be captured.  Perhaps, Leif and Aela could help Juliet and
her family later—just as they could help Taeru.  Leif led Aela by the hand once
more, bringing her behind several other houses, through storage buildings and
deserted stalls.

Horses pursued them, and Aela could hear the footsteps. 
Leif had reacted quickly enough to disguise their position again, though, and
the men only had a rough estimate of where they might be.  Still, Leif kept
moving, twisting his way through the alleyways, jumping from street to street
as he worked to blend in.

At last, they were face to face with one of the guards.  The
man, though not one of the ones who was pursuing them, recognized them
immediately.  He drew his sword, cutting a gash along Leif’s arm, as Leif had
stepped forward and shoved Aela back.  “Stop at once!” the guard cried.

Aela moved forward, kicking him hard in the knee.  The man
fell without much resistance, and Leif took Aela by the hand again and they
sprinted off towards another street.  “Someone stop them!” the guard who had
fallen shouted.  Apparently, everyone in the Telandan military was skilled in
giving orders, just not following them. 

“These fools wouldn’t last a moment against father’s army,”
she growled.

Once more, Leif shot her an agitated glance.  She assumed he
didn’t like her speaking so freely about matters that were not disclosed. 
Moving became a little more difficult, and in between one of the alleyways,
another of the men spotted them.  “Over here!” he cried.  Leif changed
directions at once, vaulting over a wall before skidding to a stop outside a
cellar door. 

He reached forward, grabbing at the handle, presumably to
see if it would open.  It did, and he yanked his head forward as a gesture for
Aela to go.  She obeyed, easing herself into the darkness of the cellar.  She
could see a few shelves and various instruments in the light provided by the
sun before Leif slammed the doors shut, and they were plunged into darkness. 
“Did you see a torch?” he asked after a moment.  She moved towards his voice,
not at all inclined to be in complete darkness.