The Magdan smiled and let his glaive fall to the ground. He started back towards me, his own fists closing so tight I could almost imagine I was watching the blood fleeing his fingers. ‘I could not adore you more right now were you the Goddess of Love, Falcio.’
The first blow struck my ear and a ringing filled my head. It didn’t dissipate. The second caught me just below my right eye, the blood and swelling blinding me. By then I was desperately grabbing onto his coat to keep me upright. The third blow caught my lower lip, leaving me gagging on the blood that was pouring down my throat. The cold was completely overtaking me now, destroying my sense of touch. The world retreated further and further away, but somehow I stayed on my feet as the Magdan beat me senseless.
Brasti was crying, I knew – I couldn’t see it or hear it, and yet I felt it just as truly as I did Kest’s heart breaking when I finally held up my now empty hands and dropped to my knees in the snow.
‘Enough,’ Kest said, pleading, to the others. ‘He’s given up. It’s enough.’
‘One last thing,’ the Magdan said, coming up behind me. He tore the coat off my back and dumped it in the snow, then stood over it – I think he was about to piss on it, until he realised what poor taste that would be.
‘Burn it,’ he ordered. Okay, so being tasteful wasn’t the issue.
I smiled up at him – or at least, I think I did. ‘You can have it. I’m done with it.’
I let myself fall back in the snow for a moment, but someone came and lifted me back up. I didn’t care. I was tired, and I’d done what I’d come to do. Neither Kest nor Brasti looked as if they understood why it had taken me so long to fall, but if I’d been able to speak, I would have told them that I lost this fight yesterday, when I’d allowed myself to be tricked into coming up into these mountains, to a place my body was not adapted for, where I had no hope of winning.
What I had to do now was win tomorrow’s fight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The Unexpected Cellmate
I drifted in and out of consciousness for a while after that. I was still trying to keep my one good eye open for more than a few seconds when two Avarean warriors grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me through the compound. Looked like none of my fellow Greatcoats had wanted the job.
‘Your people have an unusual way of escorting prisoners,’ Kest said, looking back at the guard behind them; he was resting the end of his sword against Kest’s right shoulder as they walked; Brasti’s guard had positioned his blade the same way.
‘An Avarean technique; it’s extremely effective,’ the Magdan said chattily. ‘No matter how much you might try to hide your intentions, the muscles in your shoulders will tense before you make a run for it – the guards will see that, and it’s child’s play to pull the sword back a few inches and stab you before you move.’
Kest stared straight ahead, but I knew how his mind worked. They’d taken his weapons, and Brasti’s too, and their coats, so there weren’t exactly a lot of options for resistance. ‘And yet, if the prisoner were to take a more unorthodox action—?’ Kest quickly lifted his hand to grab the sword while taking a small step backwards; it should have prevented the guard from withdrawing the blade, but the warrior was too quick for him.
For an instant I feared Kest was about to be stabbed through the back, but the guard just struck him lightly on the top of his head with the flat of the blade before resting it once again on Kest’s shoulder.
The other guards laughed.
‘Forgive their manners,’ the Magdan said, ‘but this is a game Avareans play as children.’
Kest gave a nod. ‘So, an unconventional means of control to everyone but their own people. Surprisingly effective.’
‘No doubt if you had more practise, you’d be able to evade the sword,’ the Magdan said, giving Kest a friendly slap on the back.
Brasti snorted. ‘Isn’t that sweet? We’re all becoming fast friends again.’
We passed twenty or thirty cannons lined up down the centre of the main hall of the fort, each one with its accompanying small cart on heavy wheels. They were all filled with leaded balls and small barrels, which I assumed must contain pistol powder.
‘What do you plan to do with us?’ I asked. My throat was barely able to conjure more than a hoarse whisper. I wasn’t expecting an honest answer, of course, but sometimes the choice of lie can be instructive.
The Magdan stopped and turned to face us. For a moment I saw the old Morn there, though I didn’t like it any more than the new one. ‘You’ll be our guests for a long time, I’m afraid: you’ll watch as we do the things the Greatcoats should have done years ago, and when it’s all over and you’ve seen what we’ve accomplished, I’ll set you free.’
‘That’s decent of you,’ I said.
It would be, if it were true, only I was fairly sure it was nonsense intended only to reassure the other Greatcoats.
‘I apologise in advance for the accommodations,’ he said as we reached a long hallway barred with a heavy iron gate. I didn’t need to examine it to know it would be easier to cut through the wooden frame than to attempt to break through the gate itself. Inside were ten cells, each sealed with more bars.
All right. Time to get on with it, I thought, and prayed to no one in particular that I could summon the strength for what had to happen next.
I slumped, not even bothering to attempt to hold myself up – the two warriors holding onto me were doing a good enough job of that – and the instant I felt their guard dropping just a fraction, I used their shoulders to help me propel myself at the Magdan. I got one half-decent blow, tearing at his coat and screaming, ‘You don’t deserve to wear this, you bastard!’ before he grabbed me by the neck. Despite my injured throat, I’d shrieked so loudly I’d actually made him wince.
I kept pawing at him even as he slammed me back against the wall. ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘You’re testing my patience, Falcio.’
I spat in his face – it seemed only fair, after all he’d done to me – but more importantly, it made him throw me to the floor by the bars. I lay there for a bit, showing them all that I was finally spent – and because I was, in fact, completely spent. I had no idea how I’d managed that last effort. Now I just wanted to sleep for a year.
‘Saints, his head is bleeding,’ Brasti cried. ‘You’ve killed him—!’
‘Stop being so damned melodramatic, Brasti,’ the Magdan said. He kicked me with the toe of his boot. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Falcio. All those stories people tell about you back home? The only thing you appear to be any good at is getting hurt.’
Despite how horrible I was feeling, I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. You can say that again.
One of the guards took out a heavy key with four different lengths of teeth on it and used it to open the iron gate.
I kept silent as two men dragged me into the hall of cells.
‘Just like being back in Tristia,’ Brasti muttered as he entered behind me. ‘Who says our two peoples are so different?’
The hall grew darker as we moved away from the gate. There was only a single torch lighting the space at the end.