A Strange Song of Madness (Part 1)
Chapter 12
Shaol woke with the water caravan, soon the sun would rise and the goods would be delivered to the gate and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The cage was just large enough for Shaol to sit in with his legs bent, his back pressed hard against the wet, stone wall behind. Through the bars he could see nothing but a wall lit by the one lantern further down the passage.
Pysuun had fallen quiet in the next cage.
“We will free, Horsuun,” Pysuun had said before the silence.
“It won’t end until he is free,” Shaol lied.
Shaol gripped the chain and stone in his pocket. It had ended and he had failed those he was here to protect. The guards may have gone to find the Battlemaster, they may have just left them rot. Whatever had happened it was done, way one or another he would be dead like he should have been many months earlier when his body had given up.
But now Pysuun had paid for this foolishness. He had found a peace as the head of a house under Aksit, until Shaol had brought the poisonous thoughts of his lost son and the stupid promise that he could be a father again.
Shaol harden his gaze on the crack that marched up the wall, he did not want it to end here. He wanted to go into the fortress and bring back Hassa, he wanted to take Cutter and Rag home, he wanted so many things but these were thoughts of the ones that did not know this city as he did.
Shaol hung his head and let the time pass him.
The door at the end of the hall opened and a strong, light poured into the space casting two long shadows. The sound of boots approached, calm and steady, and then stopped in front of Pysuun’s cage.
“Is this the one with the message?” came a low voice.
“I have the message,” said Shaol using the bars to pull himself from the floor.
“Shoot this one,” said the voice.
There was a hard clank, a snap and then Pysuun drew a harsh breath. The Master was in front of Shaol’s cage dressed in dull armour and heavy, brown cape made of fur covered his shoulders.
“Speak,” commanded the Master.
“You must let us leave the city or the Masters will pay.”
The Master looked at for a moment at Shaol, studying him.
“Where’s your Demon?”
“She is with us.”
“The other lies bleeding and yet your Demon hides.”
“She will come, ask Aksit what she can do.”
“Shoot him.”
An crossbow was between the bars, a bolt hit Shaol in the side and he fell back against the wall.
“Zeria protects us,” said the Master softly, “and she is more powerful than any you know.”
“You’re nothing in dead city with your worthless god,” cursed Pysuun.
The Master watched Shaol as blood started to stain his shirt, the Master’s face twitched and the Master turned from the cage.
“Gather everyone who has seen these two, you will say nothing of this to anyone.”
“What about the Demon?” asked the other nervously.
“Do as I say.”
The boots became distant and Shaol held the bolt lodged in his body, his hands becoming slippery with blood.
“Pysuun,” called Shaol to the wall.
“She’ll save Horsuun,” Pysuun’s weak voice came from the cell.
“He will be safe.”
“I don’t regret this… it was already gone.”
Pysuun did not speak again.
Shaol gritted his teeth, his vision start to blur and sank to the ground.
“This is not the end for you, Shaol” said Friend from beyond the bars.
“Free us,” whispered Shaol, “hurry.”
“They will take you from this place.”
“Dead.”
“No, because you still want to live.”
“Break the bars.”
“We don’t need to the break the bars, they will take you from this place. You need to remove the bolt.”
“Help me.”
Shaol’s head started to become heavy.
“Listen to the song, Shaol. You can hear it.”
Shaol did not want to listen to the song, the metal moved in his flesh.
“Listen to the blood, Shaol, if you want to live you must focus.”
Shaol pulled himself back from the edge of the world and did as he was commanded. A distant song swam in the cage around him as it rose from the blood, it danced up towards the sky and as it went it did not follow a path, the notes did not come when they should, there was no pattern or rhythm, it was nothing but a swirl of sounds.
“Can you hear it?”
“What is it?”
“A song that sings because it must. The song for what needs to be done. Do you know what needs to be done?”
The metal, he needed to remove the bolt.
“I can’t pull out the bolt,” muttered Shaol as the song became louder and strong.
“Five trees can grow in the dead lands of Gart, Shaol, so a bolt can be taken from a wound.”
A rhythm joined the song, it was not chaotic, it was true and solid but weak and fading.
“How?” asked Shaol.
“You know what must be done, now command the song to do it.”
It needed to pull the bolt apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.
“If you know you must command the song.”
Shaol found the song in the cage around him. He could see its colourless form, he could feel it push against his flesh, he could taste it his mouth, it started to invade his mind and it became heard to focus on anything but the sound. He pushed through the sound trying to find his thoughts.
The bolt needed to be taken apart but he couldn’t. The song must because it needed to be done.
The metal of the shaft started to slip away from between Shaol’s fingers and then he found there was nothing. Shaol pushed hard against the empty wound in his side and gritted his teeth, the song continued to swirl around him, the taste in mouth became strong and bitter.
“We have the week, Shaol,” said Friend and she was gone.
Shaol felt everything start to slip away but he fought to hold onto the world that tried to spin away.
Something was in the cage with him. It was not Pysuun, it was not Friend, it was waiting for him just beyond the edge of the world. He banged his head against the wall, the his head rung and the spectre was gone as he found the pain of the world he was still in.
There was a crack that grew in the wall of the gaol, like a tree that grew in dead lands of Gart, like a the song that rose from his blood, like a fortress that had consumed a scared light.