DREAMWIELDER Book 1 of The Dreamwielder Chronicles

Chapter 20: THE FACE OF TERROR

Natarios Rhodas stood silently in the courtyard of Castle Pyrthin watching Wulfram inspect the crowd of women who had been brought up from the dungeons. Since putting out a bounty on sorceresses several weeks prior, mercenaries, cut purses, and all sorts of unsavory characters had been dragging in women in droves. Natarios had kept them locked up in his own scent-hound tower at first, but once King Casstian had been taken captive, he moved them to the dungeon beneath the castle in order to accommodate the sheer number of them. There were forty-seven of them according to his records. Most were harmless, he was sure: old spinsters who gossiped too much, homeless orphan girls, street trollops, and other such guttersnipe. They were a bedraggled and pathetic lot, but Natarios's orders had been clear; he was to pay the bounties on all of them and let Wulfram sort them out.

They all stood now huddled together in the center of the courtyard, wrists tied behind their backs. Wulfram stalked amongst them, giving most of them no more than a glance. A few he examined carefully, touching their temples with his taloned fingers or sniffing their heads. Some of the younger women were no more than children, and they balled in fear when Wulfram regarded them. Around the perimeter of the courtyard, twenty Pyrthinian archers stood at the ready should any of the women actually turn out to have power of any sort. Their captain stood rigidly at Natarios's side.

A minor commotion at the main gate distracted Natarios from Wulfram's inspection, and he turned to see one of his henchmen hurrying his way across the courtyard.

"A raven came from Col Sargoth," the man said between heavy breaths, thrusting a scroll into Natarios's hands.

Natarios started to break the wax seal but saw that the scroll was addressed to Wulfram and thought better of it. He instead dismissed the man back to his tower and tucked the message into his robes to await Wulfram. I can't say that I miss that dank tower, Natarios thought to himself as he watched his courier scurry off. He had assigned the three most trustworthy of his men to stay in the tower and attend to the scent-hound and for himself had appropriated King Casstian's private quarters. It certainly made it easier for him to attend to daily matters concerning the governing of the city and kingdom in Casstian's stead, and the comforts were the least he could ask for in reward as far as he was concerned. Wulfram, for his part, stayed in Casstian's study high up in the tower. Probably so he can fly off in the night to prowl around, Natarios mused.

After what seemed an interminably long time to Natarios, Wulfram finally walked from the throng of woman to join Natarios.

"Find who you are looking for?" Natarios asked.

"No. There are a few women of minor ability among them, but they are of little concern to us."

"Shall I order their release, My Lord?" the captain of the archers asked, keeping his eyes averted toward Wulfram's feet.

"No," Wulfram said without hesitation. "Have your men kill them all."

The captain's mouth opened in protest, but the words choked back in his throat.

An emanation of danger prickled across Natarios's skin. He was no fool. He knew the captain and his men held no loyalty to Wulfram or the Emperor. They obeyed out of fear alone. "Master," he said in a neutral tone, "there are children amongst the captives. Surely they pose no danger to us? Let us take them back to the dungeons, and then I'm sure the captain will have no reason to object to your commands. Isn't that right, Captain?"

"No," Wulfram growled before the captain could respond. "I said kill them all."

Wulfram's voice carried throughout the courtyard, and the archers and the captive women both heard his words. A handful of sobs and cries for help sprung from the crowd of women, and the archers shuffled uncomfortably as their eyes darted from one another to their captain to the panicked women. Already sweat had formed on the captain's brow, and he began to shake his head.

"I can't, I can't."

"Have your men take aim and shoot," Wulfram commanded.

"No," the commander replied, stealing what courage he had left and standing straight.

"Have it your way then," Wulfram said and he turned to face the women. His hand gesture was subtle, and few at first noticed the flames, but within seconds the fire spread from the feet of the captive women to climb up their skirts. The women screamed, at first only startled, but their yells quickly turned to cries of pain as the flames enveloped them. A few of the women at the edge of the fray tried to bolt, but they managed to make it no more than a few steps before tripping to writhe, burning on the ground.

"No!" the captain yelled, unable to stand it any longer. He rushed forward to aid the women in whatever way he could, but before he could take two steps, Wulfram swiped at him with wolf-like quickness and he fell dead, his throat rent open with four mortal gashes.

The cacophony of screaming was near deafening now, and smoke billowed up from the burning women. Around the courtyard, the archers turned away in shock. Some of them vomited at the smell of smoke and cooking flesh.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Wulfram bellowed over the mayhem. "If you wish to show mercy to others then you will obey my orders without question."

Natarios kept his eyes steadily on the scene of fiery horror before him, but he turned his mind to other thoughts to distract himself. It was a skill he had taught himself long ago to cope with the unsettling acts he was forced to watch. And sometimes perpetrate.

The screams one by one ended, and the women quit struggling as they slowly succumbed to their painful deaths. One girl only, no more than twelve or thirteen years old, continued to struggle after all the others. She had thrown herself to the ground and tried rolling, but the flames were unrelenting, and eventually she too came to a stop as her long blond hair burned away to nothing, and all but her bones were consumed by the flames.

"You have a message for me, I believe," Wulfram said suddenly.

"What?" Natarios asked, realizing Wulfram was addressing him.

"The message from Col Sargoth."

"Of course," Natarios replied, scrambling to reach into his pockets and turn over the scroll. He had completely forgotten about it already.

Wulfram tore open the message and read it, then crumpled it and tossed it aside as it burst into flames. "I must return to Col Sargoth at once," he said, striding away toward the main keep. "The prince has escaped."

"But wait," Natarios said, rushing after him. "What am I to do with the King?"

"Keep him locked up," Wulfram said. "I will return before long."

~~~

High in one of the five towers of Lightbringer's Keep, Lorentz retched on his own blood. His neck muscles strained to tilt his head forward, but like the rest of his limbs, it was lashed to the crossbeams of the rack, and he was forced to remain upright and let the blood and bile run over his chin and down his neck.

"Where has he gone?" the Emperor whispered again, leaning in close to Lorentz's ear. "Tell me."

"I told you already. He means to rescue his father."

"And I've told you, he's not passed along the south road. You think I would not expect him to flee for Kal Pyrthin? He has not gone that way. He is in league with sorcerers, I know. Tell me. Where are they? In Norgland? Golier? Valaróz?"

"I don't know," Lorentz said.

The Emperor picked up his tongs again. "Don't make me pull out more teeth, my dear man. This will all be much easier on you when you tell me everything."

Lorentz groaned but said nothing, and the Emperor reached toward him again.