Haladras

Fifteen

The room's darkness was only surpassed by the night sky looming outside the tall, slit-like windows. Those same windows commanded a view of the frightened city below. A heavy coldness permeated the room, as if the air were made of the same lifeless stone as the walls and floor. The room, narrow and long, stretched before them like the Devil's Throat on Haladras. At the end of the room, in front of the windows, sitting behind an enormous ebony desk, was a man who reminded Skylar of a desert weasel.

The man looked up from his desk to scrutinize the captive with his beady eyes, which were set between a nose so long and pointed it might have served for a weapon.

"What is it, Sergeant?" said the man with a voice full of impatience.

"This is the captive, Lord Governor," answered the officer, sounding so humble that it made Skylar smile. "You requested we bring him to you."

"Let him come forward, then."

The sergeant motioned with his hand, and the guards on either side of Grim roughly hurried him to the governor's desk. They planted him just in front of the desk before retreating to the sides of the room.

The governor studied Grim for a few moments before asking, "What is your name?"

"I am called Grim," came the proud reply.

"Grim. That is all? Only Grim?" The governor's voice bore an edge of mockery.

"Grim Galloway, if it pleases you, Governor." Grim's voice was neither harsh nor kind, but perfectly matter-of-fact, as though he spoke to no one of any importance.

"It does not please me," was the governor's sour response. "You have entered my city with the appearance of a vagrant. Yet you carry a noble blade of steel. A knight's blade, if I'm not mistaken. From whom did you steal it?"

Grim stood tall and erect, with all the dignity of a king. And when he spoke, his words were the clear incontestable words of truth. "It is none but my own. Given me by King Athylian himself."

The mention of Athylian's name seemed to hit the governor in the chest. He rocked back in his chair.

"Athylian!" he cried. "How can that be? I demand that you tell me your true name."

"I have had other names in the past. But I claim them no longer. Grim is my name."

"Impudence!" squealed the governor, rising from his chair glaring at Grim with a menacing scowl. "You shall―"

There was a sudden stirring from a corner of the room at the governor's side. He paused in mid-sentence and turned his head in that direction. The deep shadow that obscured the corner seemed to be moving, growing, until it was standing next to the governor. The governor whispered something to it and the thing hissed back. It was then that Skylar realized that the shadow was actually a man―or something like man. There was insufficient light to tell. It wore a dark hooded cloak and its face was but a tiny abyss of blackness.

Whatever it was, the governor paled and cowered under its shadow. Despite his evident discomfort with the strange being, the governor managed to maintain a semblance of composure, nodding obsequiously to some secret instruction.

Then the shadow withdrew back into its corner and the shaken governor, mopping his bald head with a handkerchief, returned his attention to Grim.

"I have reconsidered the matter," he said. "Maintain your anonymity, if that is your wish. You are free to go, but I warn you not to tarry in my city. My guards shall put your sword back in your possession and see you to the gates of the citadel. Sergeant."

He flicked his hand, like a man shooing a fly. In response, the sergeant pointed to one of the guards.

"See the prisoner to the gates."