Betrayal's Hands - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

T'leren strode down the road away from the city. She had never before felt this feeling, this freedom. The day was bright, the sky clear and blue with a faint wind that cooled her skin, and the world lay before her with its multitude of choices.

An hour later, she decided that she was a fool, sitting on a rock at the side of the dusty road to remove her shoe. A blister had formed on her heel and her legs ached.

"I don't believe the cobbler meant these shoes to take this punishment." She spoke aloud, no one being around to hear her. Staring morosely at her shoe, she tried to decide what to do. Finally, she came to her conclusion, slipping off her other shoe, and tying them together by the ribbon laces. Slinging them over her shoulder she stepped back onto the road. With the dust already coating her toes, she set off again.

It still seemed to be such a wonderful thing, this freedom of action and purpose. As she contemplated her new world a village came into view. Villages this close to the city were all fairly large and in good repair, and each boasted an inn to house travelers who came from far away and wished to spare the expense of city Inns. T'leren entered the outskirts of the village, drawing the occasional odd look from the villagers for being a well dressed single female alone.

Entering the dim common room of the inn, T'leren moved to the bar. She quickly drew the attention of the grim looking innkeeper from where he was stocking several freshly cleaned cups behind the bar.

"I would like a meal and a room for the night," she said, enunciating clearly and respectfully. After all, she was in his world now, even though by all rights she was of far higher station than he.

The barkeep studied her for a minute, a scar on his cheek that ran over across his jaw twitching a little, then shook his head. "No rooms available, miss," he said.

T'leren felt her lower lip tremble. She took a deep breath and calmed it. Behind the man stood a pegboard with several room keys on it. She looked at the keys and then back at him. He shrugged, "Them's all reserved, sorry to say."

T'leren nodded. For a long and precarious moment she considered letting slip who she was, then she would see how fast a room might be made available. Her mouth opened and she spoke, "I see, how far is it to the next town?"

"A day's ride or so, if you head to the west. North outta here will put you half a day or so of walking to Halburg, a right decent little farming town," he said, clearly relieved that she was going to make no issue of it.

T'leren thanked him and walked out of the inn, slipping her shoes back off when she was back on the road. Her blister had split open and was bleeding by now, but even with a limp that cut into her pace, she hoped to make Halburg on or before nightfall.

---

A small group of men and women gathered in the shadows of a tanner's workshop. Among them were Corillius and four others. He looked into the darkened face of each person, judging how their time in Duth Darek had changed them. They were on the edge of the markets, where the slaves were held.

Slavery was a forbidden practice among the Free Peoples of Nordlamar, and the squalor that many of Aradmathian slaves were kept in was unfit for pigs destined for slaughter. Each wore a visage that promised no mercy for any who came in their way.

"I've bribed a few locals for information, and tortured a few others for more," Corillius said, his voice low but meaningful. "Our people are being held in the barn over there, behind the public cages and the stage. They are being fattened up before being sold, as well as being disciplined to make them better slaves."

The squad leaders muttered oaths at this, and Corillius nodded in agreement with their anger. One woman even spit in contempt.

"There are six doors to it: two on our end, the eastern one; a large one for wagons on the south; one on the north; and another two on the western face. We have five groups. Everybody will take a smaller door and once inside, Veera, take your squad to the south and secure that door and try to find a wagon in case some of our people are injured," Corillius said.

"On the way out we'll need a distraction, so Arrik, your squad is to open the other slave cages and set them loose. If we're on a wagon then as many as possible will ride upon it, but if need be every one of us will run alongside to defend it so our countrymen can be returned."

Arrik nodded, the red stubble growing back on his cheeks from the flowing red beard he had been forced to shave to come on the mission.

"Captain," Veera said, looking at the other squad leaders as if to be sure of what she said before it was uttered. "What if we can't get them out?"

Corillius nodded thoughtfully. He had considered the possibility, but in hopes of it not ever reaching that stage he had given it as little thought as possible. "We kill them if they can't fight beside us, and not a one of us to be taken alive. Kill your own warriors if you must, understood?"

Everyone nodded, sobered by the thought that, after coming so far, some farther than they had ever journeyed in their lives, they might die unknown and abandoned. But still, to a Nordlamar citizen, freedom was worth more than life.

"Good, then let's be off. They have a bell that tolls on the hour, by my reckoning we should be in place by the next toll. Go on the last bell."

With not even whispered words of good luck they were gone, sneaking back through the darkness to their squads to relay the orders and to move into position. Corillius nodded in recognition of their skills and attitude. He was proud of them; how well they had come together so quickly. He moved back to his own squad and they moved towards the northernmost door on the east side of the barn.

The bell struck four times and they were rushing the door. The lock was a simple latch that gave with a kick, smashing the door open and startling a pair of sleeping guards awake from a nearby table. Before they could do much more than figure out they were under attack the Nordlamar warriors were moving down a hallway and wiping their blood from their blades.

Elsewhere the other squads met with similar success. So deep within the heart of the Kingdom the guards were lazy and soft. Security was something that protected a fat man's purse from pickpockets, not from attack by a band of highly trained enemy soldiers. In fifteen minutes every Aradmathian guardsman was put to the sword and the building was theirs without any alarm being raised.

The captive Nordlamarians could scarcely believe what was happening to them: they were being freed. They were all hale and hearty, with a few recovering injuries here and there but nothing to stop them from being fully mobile and able to wield a weapon. Corillius looked them over long and hard, looking for Annalyse, but finally had to admit defeat.

"Where is your captain?" He asked them once he had gotten them settled down somewhat.

"That bastard Makan took her," a man said. "They took her to a brothel or something," another woman said.

Corillius' eyes widened and his fists clenched in rage. Anna was a maiden! To be raped and tortured like this was unforgivable! Moreover, she was his cousin. "Where is she?" he asked.

The one that had spoken before shook his head in dismay. "We all love her, captain, and there's not a one of us that wouldn't lay down our lives for her. When that bastard raped her before us all, then let his men have their way with her, we'd any of us have traded places with her in a minute."

Corillius shook his head and glanced away, tears or rage and agony at hearing the news coming to his eyes. "How could this happen?" he wondered aloud.

"She fought back, Sir," another said. "Young Valus had his head put on a block and she spoke out, telling them to leave him alone. When they couldn't shut her up, they beat her and still she spoke out. Finally she'd nothing left but insults for Makan, trying to draw his anger to her instead of the others. She even told him that if he didn't kill every one of us then one of us or someone else would hunt his family down and kill them one by one and save him for the last."

Corillius almost chuckled at the vow. It sounded like something his cousin would say. She was given to speaking her mind and giving in to her temper. "What happened next?" He asked.

"The whore-son killed them and then, right there in Valus' blood, he stripped her naked and had his way with her," she continued, fresh tears running down her face at the memory.

"And you've no idea where she's at now?" Corillius persisted, staring at them all.

"I just heard that Makan had her taken to a private brothel. One of the guards was joking about it," the man from earlier again spoke.

Corillius nodded. "Thank you. Grab what spare weapons you can and clothing as well, then follow my warriors out of here. They'll get you out of the city in small groups, and you'll meet up again in a day or so. If not, my warriors know what to do, but if you find yourself separated head to the north, northwest, and do anything you can to get back home."

"Captain, you're not coming with us?" Veera asked, looking at him.

"I hope to meet you," he said. "But I'll not leave without Annalyse. She's a symbol to the army and the people."

"But Sir, you don't know where she is," Veera persisted.

"I'll find her. Nobody gets left behind, and nobody makes a slave or a whore of a Nordlandiir!"

"Captain, we'll come with you!" Three of the former captives stepped forward, then the rest followed suit.

It made Corillius' chest swell with pride to see the loyalty his cousin had instilled in her warriors. He shook his head and said, "No, we've too many people, I stand a better chance by myself, plus with Annalyse at my side nothing will stop us, you all know what a fighter she is!"

There was some chuckling and cheering, though muted to avoid alerting any passing Aradmathians. The would-be slaves were broken up into small groups and plans were made. By the time the fifth and final toll came from the bell, the building was deserted save for the rats and the corpses.

---

Makan stood over his latest slave, grinning viciously. A whip hung from his hand and red welts, some bleeding slightly, crossed her body. She had tried to cover herself from his first blows, but that had infuriated him. With the help of some stone faced servants she had been tied to the bed so he could whip her freely.

Now he dropped the whip and stared at her. Tears ran down her cheeks and she lay panting and sobbing on the bed. Her body was covered in sweat and red lines. Makan loved the feeling of power that breaking in a slave gave him, and this one in particular was the best he had ever had.

"Enough foreplay, I think you're ready for me now," he growled at her.

He took off his robe and let it fall to the ground. He untied her legs and nodded appreciatively when they lay trembling on the bed. He slipped up between her legs and grabbed her feet, pulling her legs upwards and displaying her obscenely to him.

"Don't worry, my pretty, this time I'm going to teach you a new way to serve me," he said, watching her closely for a reaction.

Annalyse could handle the pain. It hurt badly, and it made her body betray her and tremble, but her mind could cope with it. Pain was life. It reminded her that she was still alive and that so long as she remained alive so to was there hope. She might one day avenge herself against the son of a bitch that raped her day after day; she might yet see her sister and father and her people again; she might one day return with the armies of Nordlamar and crush the Kingdom.

But the realization of what was about to happen to her struck a chord of terror in her. She felt him brushing against her, seeking her opening and she writhed on the bed, trying to break free. Her body was weak, undernourished and abused as it was. He laughed, enjoying the fight.

Anna's mouth opened and a tortured moan came out when she felt him hit home. He forced himself into her sending a tearing sensation through her bowels. She felt the sudden wetness and knew that something really had torn, for her blood was serving as the only lubricant that would be provided where he was. She shuddered and tried to fight again, but her body was finished.

Makan laughed again as she collapsed under him. She glared at him, tears streaming from her eyes, and then they began to close. He rutted against her, filling her repeatedly. His perverse excitement spared her life, for he was unable to last very long. He grunted and, after a final vindictive thrust into her bowels, he pulled free of her.

"Look at me, slave!" He ordered, slapping her on the face roughly.

The slave opened her eyes and he looked into them, chucking happily. He was somewhat disappointed though, for his sport was over. Her eyes possessed a dull glaze that he had seen in some soldiers who had spent to much time fighting. A thousand yard stare, they called it. She was done, her will was broken. He had broken her at last.

Makan turned and picked up his robe. He put it about him, wiping himself clean with a linen beside the bed, and turned to the door. He bade a servant to open it and watched as two servants came through the door, one with a pot of water and the other with some cloth to wash the slave with.

Something else caught his eye then, movement in the passage. He glanced up and saw another servant, though this one had a fire in his eyes. Makan gasped, realizing he was no servant, merely someone dressed as one.

Old but still spry, Makan stumbled backwards and took only a shallow cut on his arm from the sword in the man's hand. He backed away and realized that the only way out of the room was through the invader.

Corillius kicked the door shut behind him, glaring at the servants and then at Makan. The servants cowered, hiding as far from him as possible. Corillius advanced slowly upon the older man, sword held in front of him at the ready.

"Untie her!" Corillius demanded of the servants that were huddled near the bed. They looked to each other and the closer one reached up and started furiously working the knots binding her wrists.

The Nordlander waited impatiently. He had seen the way Makan had reacted and he knew the man was a dangerous fighter. He was going to kill him, but first he wanted to make certain Anna was safe. It had taken him very little time to find out which brothel Makan favored, with the help of a few well placed bribes. He still hoped to join up with his warriors before they moved out on the following day.

"Who are you?" Makan asked, trying to prolong things so he would have a chance to turn the situation to his advantage.

Corillius' eyes held a deadly promise for the Baron. "Be silent," was all he said.

"One yell and the guards will rush in here," Makan bluffed.

"I said, be silent!" Corillius again warned him. Then he added, "The sound in these rooms is deadened, there is no escape for you."

"Then I might as well charge you now," Makan said, eyes narrowing as he judged the man.

"Yes, you might as well."

Makan instead stood his ground, waiting to see what might happen next.

"Anna, get up," Corillius said, his voice a little softer.

Anna did not move at first. Then she woodenly got up and, wincing from the torture her body had endured, made her way over to him. She got next to him and stood there numbly. Corillius glanced at her and felt despair. The rag doll standing next to him was not his cousin, just a beaten girl who looked like her.

He turned back to Makan, fresh rage simmering in his eyes. The crafty baron had started to edge towards him but now he backed away again, seeing the big Nordlander's expression. Cor advanced on him, sword held at the ready. Makan held his hands out and low, a submissive gesture but also a stance that would let him spring quickly if he needed to. Blood dripped from Makan's right hand from the earlier graze.

Makan lunged as Cor raised his sword. The younger man turned easily and drove his fist into the back of the other man's neck while he kicked out with his foot, tripping him. The baron crashed to the floor, grunting and cursing in pain. He turned his head and tried to get up, displaying a broken nose with blood gushing from it. Cor's foot stepped on his back, pushing him back down to the wooden planks of the floor.

"This woman you have tried to destroy once promised you a fate," Corillius said, sheathing his sword and then grabbing on to Makan's neck and picking him up. The Northman threw him down on the bed so that the blood from his nose mingled with the blood already staining the sheets from his most recent and devastatingly brutal rape of Annalyse.

"I'm going to personally see to it that it comes true," he hissed, picking up the whip from the ground. "But first, here's a little taste of what you did to her!"

Cor ripped the robe from the beaten baron's body and struck him repeatedly with the whip, making the man grit his teeth from the pain. Corillius spared no strength, he flailed the man mercilessly, with each lash drawing blood.

Finished and panting from the effort, Corillius reversed the grip on the whip and introduced Makan to the receiving end of a brutal intrusion like that which he had inflicted upon Annalyse. Corillius stepped back, breathing hard and glaring with murderous fury at the man who was reduced to sobbing and groaning in agony on the sheets.

"Bind him!" Corillius demanded of the two servants. Having seen what he had done to a member of nobility, they hurried to obey. In moments Baron Makan was bound fast to the bed.

"Now one of you take off your clothes and help this lady dress in them."

After looking at each other one of them took off the skimpy rags they were forced to wear and tied them on Anna. Corillius then grabbed up Makan's robe and threw it over her shoulders.

"I meant what I said," Corillius said to the two servants. "And I came here all the way from the north. I found her, and I found her warriors. They are all free now. If you untie him I will find out and I will return to treat you to a worse fate than what is in store for him and his family!"

The two servants nodded, terrified of the large Northman, and cowered once again as far from him as they could. Corillius opened the door and, after looking out it, he led the still docile and uncaring Anna out into the passage.

In the early hours before dawn, escaping both the brothel and the city proved easier than he would have imagined. His return trip, once Anna was safe, would be equally simple he suspected.

---

Despite Makan's ranting and raving, the two servants fled the room after Corillius and Annalyse left. They did not even stop by their beds in the servants' quarters, but instead fled out of the brothel and into the city. They had no idea where to go, but they were terrified of Corillius and had no desire to incur his wrath after what they had seen.

Thus it was that, of all people, Baron Darleth was the one to come and find Baron Makan in his predicament. He had hoped to call upon the man that next day to discuss some political shuffling he had been considering, and discovered that he had not returned home. So, naturally, he figured the Baron was still being entertained by his slave. With a new servant to show him his way, Darleth's surprise was considerable to see the man positioned as he was.

A chuckle broke from Darleth's humorless lips. Makan's body tensed, and he renewed his struggles against his bonds.

"Who's there?" he queried nervously. His only relief came from the fact that the handle of the whip had fallen free of him many hours ago.

"I see that your slave found a way to escape you and turn the tables, my Lord." Darleth's voice was full of humor.

"Darleth? Is that you? Release me!" Makan's voice gained strength as he realized that it was not the return of the northlander. He flapped his arms and tried to turn his head to glare at the younger man who seemed to be taking his time in working the ropes.

Darleth grinned then, a frightening thing with little of humor in it. He quickly realized that this was most likely the best thing that had ever happened and would ever happen to him in his lifetime. Not only would he possess Makan's daughter, he would hold this over Makan's head for the rest of his life. He moved to release the older man's wrists and ankles from the ropes and wrap him in a loose sheet from the bed.

"How long have you been like this?" he asked, once Makan was upright and feeling a bit more in control.

"Moments, hours, I don't know. It was full dark when the northman attacked me to save the whore, what is the hour now?"

Darleth turned his head to the side so that Makan would not be able to see the smile that tried to move his lips. "It's late afternoon, after four bells." He replied.

Makan groaned. "They'll be long gone from the city by now." He didn't mention to Darleth the repetition of the threat to his family. The only power he had now was in keeping information to himself.

"They're northern savages, lucky, apparently, but no match for our forces," Darleth assured him. "Come, let us away and have our private guard immediately set after them. I have some excellent trackers amongst my men that have been denied the ability to hunt anything other than wild game for too long."

Makan nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" he hissed, hastening to the door.

"A moment, My Lord Baron," Darleth said, turning to the serving girl who had, through a miraculous effort of will, kept her face neutral throughout the exchange. Darleth motioned her closer to him and smiled at her.

"You will not speak of this... to anyone," he stated as well as asked. She shook her head emphatically. Of course she would have to tell some of the other slaves, news of this nature would have to be shared, but the nobles must not know of it.

Darleth nodded and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her to him before she could yelp in surprise or protest. He buried his dagger in her belly, point facing upwards to pierce her lung and heart. She struggled in his grasp for a few moments then slumped, dead.

"Of course you won't," he said, smiling softly at her. He turned to Makan, his eerie smile still in place.

"We must keep this little incident to ourselves," he offered by way of explanation. "Imagine what could happen if news of it were to get out."

Makan shuddered and nodded. He thought Darleth to be on his side, but he also wondered if perhaps the younger baron had just made a veiled threat as well.

The two men hurried out of the brothel, stopping only so that Makan could change back into his clothes. They gathered up their horses and rode off in separate directions, each gathering their private guards and meeting at the northern gate by the toll of the fifth bell.

---

At the older baron's house he hasted to ready his men, ignoring the pleas of the Baroness to talk to her. She seemed addled, but he was otherwise occupied. Finally she stepped in front of him and slapped him, gaining his direct attention.

Enraged, Makan backhanded her and sent her stumbling to the ground. "You foolish wench, I'm on important business! Whatever you want can wait!"

Stunned, with tears running down her cheeks, the Baroness stared at him for a long minute. He turned to storm out of the room before she found her voice.

"T'leren is missing, My Lord."

Makan stopped as soon as the words registered. His mouth dropped and he gasped imperceptibly. "What do you mean, missing?"

"Your daughter is gone, no one knows where. None of the guards or servants saw her leave, but she's not here," she said, her voice gaining strength and anger.

Makan closed his eyes and felt hopelessness sap his strength. Already the Northlander's oath was coming true.

"What of D'lariana?" He asked, turning to face her and feeling shame for his treatment of her.

"She is in her rooms, protected by your guards, My Lord," the Baroness said, clipping each word curtly.

Makan walked over to her and helped her up. "We should not have struck one another," he said softly, by way of apology. "I must tend to these affairs, I suspect it might bring T'leren's disappearance to light. I will return as quickly as I am able. We will talk more then."

She nodded, a part of her overjoyed to hear his words and hoping that perhaps things might come back around for them. "Be safe, husband," she whispered as he turned to leave. He paused, nodded, and then hurried out to his horse and his awaiting troops.

Continued in Chapter 5

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