Roger Taylor - Ibryen

‘If I have to, I’ll kill you, boy,’ the soldier said as he wrestled with the binding around his arm. ‘Make no mistake. I don’t have to take you back alive. There’ll be plenty who’ll identify you as Lord Hagen’s killer when your body’s stretched out in the Citadel Square for public exhibition.’

Jeyan twisted her pain into a balefully glittering knot and dropped it into the well of hatred which now had almost total possession of her. It overflowed.

‘You’ll be in hell before me, you piece of Gevethen filth,’ she spat, through her bruised and bloodied mouth. ‘Look at your arm. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig. You’re dying. Go on, porky – die – squeal and die.’ She swung a feeble foot at him but missed. The soldier was no Citadel fop however, and Jeyan’s goad merely helped him to recover. By way of recompense he delivered two more kicks, both harder than the first.

With unexpected agility he was on to his knees and then his feet and a powerful hand was dragging Jeyan painfully upright. Her legs could hardly support her. ‘Be quiet,’ the soldier said, shaking her. The very softness of his voice carried more menace than any roaring curse. ‘I’ve had worse hurts than this further from safety before now. If you want to stay alive, just keep quiet and hope that I don’t feel myself about to pass out, because if I do, I’ll make sure you don’t escape by pinning you to the ground with your own knife.’

He gave her a violent push that sent her sprawling again, then he yanked her upright by her bound hands. ‘And the next time you go down, boy, I’ll kick you until you get up. I can kick you all the way to the Citadel if I have to.’ He snarled into her face. ‘In fact, it’s something I’d enjoy doing.’ He dropped her again.

Jeyan had no doubt that he would at least try to fulfil this threat. She shook her head frantically. ‘No more, no more. I’ll do my best to walk, but I’m dizzy,’ she gasped.

They had gone only a few paces when the soldier faltered and propped himself against a wall to avoid collapsing again. Jeyan made no attempt to escape, however. The rope around her ankle was a very effective restraint. From somewhere she found another resource.

‘I’m sorry I cut you with the knife,’ she said plaintively. ‘You frightened me, chasing me like that. I didn’t know what to do. I just lashed out. And the dogs – they’re my friends, they look after me. They’ll attack anything that threatens me.’

The soldier, clutching his bleeding arm, glowered at her, but said nothing.

Jeyan slumped against the wall alongside him and stared down at the arm. ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ she said guiltily.

Still no reply. Exaggerating her distress, she went on, in rasping breaths, affecting kinship in suffering. ‘Look, we’re both lost here. I don’t know where I am. I only know a little bit of the Ennerhald – near the city. I usually beg – I never come this far in – there’s all sorts of strange people in here. And I don’t know anything about Lord Hagen. I didn’t even know he was dead. And there’s scores of dogs round here. Fierce dogs. People use them for protection. Why don’t you let me go – save yourself before you lose too much blood.’

She bent forward to look into his eyes. She had been hoping that his silence meant unconsciousness, but it was not the case. He was wide awake and alert. With an effort, she kept the disappointment from her face, and nodded towards his injured arm. ‘Look, the blood’s coming out with your heartbeat. That’s bad. I know it’s bad when it does that. Go and get help before it’s…’

A ferocious back-handed blow across the face ended her plea.

‘Keep quiet, I told you!’ The soldier snatched at the rope attached to her ankle, partially unbalancing her. She lurched into him, taking some satisfaction in bumping into his injured arm. It cost her another blow which left her on her knees, her head ringing. She pushed herself upright again. To her horror, the soldier was staring at her intently.

Let him not see I’m a woman, she thought frantically, all her fears re-doubled. She dropped her head. A hand gripped her chin cruelly and jerked her upright so that the inspection could be completed. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked tremulously, the grip blurring her words. ‘You’re hurting. I’m trying to do what you want. I can’t help falling over.’

The hand twisted her head round to look along the crumbling street. Over the broken and crooked rooftops at the end could be seen the five towers of the building where she had started that morning. ‘Don’t worry about being lost, boy. You recognize those, don’t you? All we’ve got to do is keep walking towards them, isn’t it? Then even I know the way.’ He shook her head viciously, making it throb. ‘What were you doing there? Enjoying the purging? You’d have been better to run and keep running after what you did. The Gevethen see everything, and they can reach everywhere, believe me, I know. Whoever paid you to kill Lord Hagen did you no favours.’

Jeyan did not need to be reminded where they were, she knew exactly, and it was imperative that she get away from her captor as soon as possible. ‘I didn’t kill Lord Hagen,’ she protested. ‘I didn’t kill anyone – I’ve never killed anyone. Why would I…’

Her head was jerked round again. The soldier’s face was barely a hand’s width from hers and his scrutiny was as intense as before, though it was apparent to her that he was having difficulty in focusing.

Squeal and die, pig, she thought vehemently, though no sign of it appeared on her face.

The soldier growled through clenched teeth. ‘Your dogs killed our men in the tower. You led us a dance all over this place just so they could do the same again. And I’ve seen you use that knife of yours. You killed Lord Hagen all right – I can smell it all over you. We know our own kind, don’t we? We brothers in blood, we’re different, aren’t we? No hesitation, just…’ He jabbed a finger into her chest and seemed to gather new strength. ‘But keep it up, keep it up. Shout your innocence as much as you like, you’ll have plenty to shout about when the Gevethen’s Questioners – Hagen’s people – his loyal people – start working on you.’ He came even closer, malevolently confidential now. ‘They always enjoy their work. It frightens me just to be near them, and it takes a lot to frighten me, I can tell you. But I might ask if I can come and watch after what you’ve done. Then again, perhaps they’ll do it in the Citadel Square for everyone to see – bit by bit, nice and slow, just to discourage any others who might be thinking the same way.’

For the first time since she had been captured, Jeyan’s fear threatened to become screaming panic; her knees and bowels began to yield as the scene described by the soldier appeared before her, lit vividly by his wide and shining eyes. Then the gaze was gone as the eyes screwed tight; the soldier’s relish in this anticipated celebration fading before more pressing needs.

When they opened again, there was simple puzzlement in them. ‘But there’s something odd about you,’ he muttered, shaking his head to clear his vision. ‘Something odd. I can’t grasp it, but…’ He grimaced and pushed himself off the wall. He was swaying. Jeyan was little more steady herself and the throbbing in her arm from the kicks she had received was merely the focus of the pain that suffused her entire body. She looked around at the familiar landscape, her haven, her hunting ground, now almost mocking her as blank-eyed windows and shattered doorways gaped, indifferent to the drama being enacted before them. And beyond, the five towers, which had once held her high and invulnerable to view the city at her will, had become a menacing hand, signalling to all where she was to be found – even she was not totally immune to the soldier’s fears – the Gevethen see everything.