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Authors: Freya Robertson

Heartwood (36 page)

BOOK: Heartwood
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“What can we do?”

“It may take a few days, but I think we can build up your energy levels again. But for now, let us try and see if we can make that connection with your brother. Maybe if we achieve that, he will release the energy he holds.”

He took Gravis's hands. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Gravis did so. Even though he could see nothing, he immediately felt the presence of the stones around him, towering over him, forbidding, resentful. He tried to shut the image out and concentrate on what Thancred was doing.

The Guardian did not speak, and for a while nothing happened. Gravis tried to relax. He could hear the rain pattering on the ground and feel the cold and hardness of the stone beneath him through the blanket. He tried to stop thinking of the stones as his enemy. If they wanted to be activated, then he was their friend. He tried to send out feelings of love towards them, but it was like trying to show love to a harsh and violent teacher; it just didn't feel right. Still, he persevered.

And then something happened.

In his mind's eye, he saw Gavius. Excitement and happiness surged through him, quickly followed by a frisson of shock. His twin sat on a horse, riding through a forest, which wasn't in itself a surprise. What was shocking, however, was the fact that his brother's hands were bound behind his back, and there was a cloth tied across his mouth.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I

Gavius watched the blood drip from his bruised mouth onto the wooden platform. He had to look through his right eye, as his left was swollen until it was almost shut. His touched his teeth tenderly with his tongue; one was loose. His whole body hurt.

He raised his head slowly. He could see from the limp figures around the platform that the others had fared little better than he. Hodie wasn't there – he was currently in a hut with the Komis leader, suffering Animus knew what horrors. His cries occasionally cut through the darkness, like sharp knives slicing through silk. Brevis was on his front and looked unconscious; at least Gavius hoped he was – that way he wouldn't feel any pain from his arm, which was quite clearly broken and lay at an odd angle. He looked across at Mellis and Niveus. Uncharacteristically, his eyes filled with tears. Mellis was curled in a ball, and although he couldn't hear her, he knew she was crying. Niveus sat upright, her back against a tree trunk, her whole body rigid with anger. Her face, too, was bloodied and swollen where she had fought her assailants. Her mouth was set in a firm line, as if gritting her teeth. She met his gaze briefly, then looked away.

He thought it had been harder for the two women. Pain was always easier to bear than shame, he thought. Although they had experienced a great deal of pain, too. Fury rose inside him again as he thought of what had happened to them, but he clamped it down, knowing it would do him no good. He had already rubbed his wrists raw trying to get out of the shackles; he was bound too tightly to wriggle free. He had the impression the Komis were quite skilled in the art of keeping captives.

It was nearly dark. He looked across the wooden platform at the treetop houses and saw minor movements, and he knew Komis were there, watching him. He thought that was the worst thing about what they had all undergone so far; not only had they been beaten and, in the women's case, sexually abused, but mostly it had all been carried out publicly, in the middle of a large platform elevated in the trees in the centre of Brant.

He had to admit the treetop settlement was an amazingly innovative construction. Long walkways had been laced from tree to tree, connecting all parts of the town. Houses hung like apples from the branches, and he now knew the Komis had been hiding there when they passed through on the way to the Green Giant.

He looked across at the hut where they had taken Hodie. Firstly, they had tried to extract information by beating them. All three Heartwood men were made of stern stuff and had refused to cave. However, when the leader took Hodie off into the hut, Gavius knew they probably had a more refined torture in store for him, and his stomach began to turn to jelly inside him.

The screaming started again, and Gavius broke out in a sweat. The cries were cut off suddenly, as if someone had put a hand over Hodie's mouth. A few moments of silence followed, and then suddenly the cloth over the doorway moved and out came one of the Komis guards, dragging Hodie by his shackles. He dumped him some yards from Gavius and went back into the hut.

Gavius looked down at his old friend, and his heart twisted inside him. Hodie's hands were a mass of blood and gore. It looked as if they had pulled all his fingernails out.

Slowly, the broken knight opened his eyes. He looked up and saw Gavius, and his eyes filled with tears. “I told them,” he whispered, shame making him look away. “I am sorry, Gavius; I could not hold it in. They… they were going to pull out my teeth.”

Gavius shuddered. “What knight would not do the same in that situation?” he said, but he knew his attempts to comfort Hodie were futile. The knight would not forgive himself for divulging any information. He wasn't quite sure what the Komis wanted to know, but he sensed it was something to do with Heartwood. Were they planning another attack?

The cloth door shivered again, and a figure came out onto the platform. Gavius now recognised him as some kind of leader – the lord or king of Brant, maybe. His long black hair had been braided elaborately with brightly coloured fabric. He wore a finely woven shirt and dark breeches, and his clothing was covered in delicate embroidery. The guards who had brought them from the Giant called him Aukaneck. He strode across to the captives and looked them over. He kicked Brevis with his toe, but the Militis did not move. Gavius wondered if he were dead. He had heard of people who died from shock after an injury. Aukaneck turned his back on him and walked over to the two women.

Mellis looked up, saw him standing over her and screamed, scrabbling away to the edge of the platform. He grinned and walked towards her. “No!” she cried, her sobs heart-wrenchingly pleading. “Please… no…” Aukaneck reached down to take her by the hand. Gavius gritted his teeth. She was already broken; she would not stand another assault, he was sure. The Komis warrior pulled her to her feet, holding her by the top of her tunic. Mellis's eyes were wide. She looked over at Gavius and in them he could read her thoughts: she knew she could not stand another assault; would beg and tell them everything they wanted to know if they promised not to rape her again, following which they would probably do it anyway.

With one last spark of the resilience she had shown throughout their journey, a decision flared in her eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, seeing what she was going to do, but it was already too late; she wrenched herself free of Aukaneck's grasp and flung herself over the edge of the platform.

Gavius gasped and Niveus cried out. Aukaneck peered over the edge. There was no sound from below. Gavius closed his eyes briefly. She would not have been able to survive the fall from that height. He opened them again and saw Aukaneck shrug. Then the Komis turned to face Niveus and grinned.

“No!” yelled Gavius. But Aukaneck ignored him. Niveus met his gaze and shook her head slightly. Tears ran down his face. She looked away. The first time she had fought them, she had ended bloodied and beaten, and they had still raped her at the end. This time, she had obviously decided to let them do what they want. Her jaw set, she let the Komis king turn her over and, knuckles white where her hands were clenched tightly on the wooden bar before her, she let herself be violated. Gavius looked over to where the others had come out of the hut to watch and stared at them with hatred pooling in his stomach like acid. But their attention was focussed on the grunting, sweating Aukaneck.

Gavius wrestled with his shackles again. They were so tight; he could feel they had cut through his flesh. He wriggled until blood ran over his hands, but still he could not free them. Eventually he sank back, the pain from his wrists making him shake, and he turned away, unable to watch his friend being hurt in such a way.

Eventually, Aukaneck finished, and Gavius looked over to see Niveus curl up on her side, feebly pulling up her breeches to cover her naked form. She glanced at him, though, and he saw the spark of defiance in her eyes and was glad of it. Clearly, she was attempting to treat the defiling of her body as a physical thing only, and was determined to try and remain aloof from it. He wondered what good it would do her. Were they all doomed to die in this Animus-forsaken place?

Aukaneck turned, tightening up his own clothing, and stared at Gavius. The Militis met his gaze boldly, although his heartbeat grew faster. The king came over and unceremoniously grabbed him by his tunic and hauled him to his feet. They had removed all the knights' mail – Gavius guessed that would be the last he'd see of that – and left them with only their tunic and breeches, which wasn't really enough cover for the cool night.

But the cold was the last of his worries at that moment as he was pushed towards the hut. He baulked at the door, smelling blood, but hands grabbed him and he was pulled inside. He fell heavily onto the floor and lay for a moment, winded, then gradually struggled to a sitting position.

It was dark inside. As far as he was able to establish, candles were not used, presumably because of the fire hazard. However, the room was lit by half a dozen or so strange creatures the size of his finger, presumably some sort of worm, which glowed with a blue phosphorescent light. It gave the occupants an eerie cast to their faces, and Gavius had to concentrate hard to keep a tight hold on his fear.

He considered himself a brave knight; he had fought in several battles during his time in the Exercitus, and had thrown himself into the attacks fearlessly, with little thought to his own danger. But now, watching the curiously metallic eyes of Aukaneck lighting up at the thought of the torture to come, panic stirred within him like a coiled snake.

“What is it you want?” He asked the Question calmly, trying to give the impression he was not afraid. The more he could keep them talking, he figured, the longer it would be before they started to torture him.

“The other one told me everything I need to know about why you are here,” said Aukaneck. He spoke in the language of Heartwood, his accent strange but his words perfect. He pulled a small knife out of a sheath on his hip and examined the blade carefully. “He told me about the Darkwater attack, and Heartwood's plan to activate the Nodes. He told me about the Virimage and Beata's journey to find him. And he told me about the Quest to Darkwater to retrieve the Arbor's Pectoris.”

Hodie had held nothing back, Gavius thought, but even though his friend had divulged information which could be dangerous to Heartwood, Gavius could not blame him. What knight was strong enough to withstand hours and hours of painful torture?

“What else do you need to know?” he asked coolly. “It sounds as if you have all the information you need.”

Aukaneck came towards him stealthily, like cat about to pounce. “I would torture you purely for the fun of it,” he admitted, turning Gavius's blood cold. “But there is one thing your friend could not tell me. I want to know the secret entrance to Heartwood.”

Gavius's mouth went dry. He had not been aware anyone knew of that. Before he had embarked on the Quest, he had not known about it, either. Valens had told him of it on the day they left so if Heartwood was under siege when they returned, they would still be able to get into the Castellum. The Imperator had made him swear not to tell anybody about the secret entrance, not even anyone who was on the Quest with him. Nor had he. So how did the Komis know about it?

It hardly mattered, he thought wearily. The fact was that they did know, and they were obviously sure he knew, and they would therefore do their utmost to get the information out of him.

Well, they weren't going to get it easily, he told himself furiously. Every second he could withhold it from them meant another second of safety for Heartwood.

“What secret entrance?” he said.

Aukaneck smiled. “I was hoping you would say that,” he said silkily, and brought forward his knife.

 

II

By the time of the evening meal, Teague appeared to have sobered up. Beata studied him as she took her place at the high table as the guest of the Lord of Henton, sending Peritus an apologetic smile at the fact that he had to wait on her, but he just smiled back and shook his head slightly, saying he didn't mind.

They had spoken for several hours after the earlier debacle in the Hall. Beata had been all for leaving then and there, convinced this Virimage or whatever he called himself was an idiot, and there was no hope in asking him to help. Peritus had managed to calm her down, however, suggesting when he sobered up he might be of a better disposition, and more inclined to accept their entreaty of help.

So far, she thought wryly, she had seen no evidence of that. True, he did not appear as drunk as he had earlier, and was conversing easily with a number of people around the Hall, but he still acted the fool, being very theatrical in his gestures and obviously keen to be the centre of attention.

She thought about the way rose petals had fluttered out of his mouth when he had belched. Had that been a trick? Or was that real, an indication – however small – of a power he might possess? She watched him now, talking animatedly to a small group of women, who giggled behind their hands and looked up at him under lowered eyelashes with false modesty. What did they find so attractive about him? She felt genuinely confused. He was surrounded by admirers, holding court as if he was the lord and not the fat, bumbling fellow who sat a little down the table, busy tucking into a whole chicken. She looked over her shoulder at Peritus, who shrugged. Clearly, he was as nonplussed as she was.

He was not uncomely, she thought. He had changed into a bright green tunic and had braided his black hair with golden cord that matched his eyes. But still, the memory of their first conversation rankled, and she knew that would stay with her, however charming he now appeared.

BOOK: Heartwood
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