Chapter 52
"Wake up!" Mitchell shouted to the drunk bandit and delivered a solid smack across his unwashed face.
The man groaned and his face twisted into a rictus of pain at the force of the blow.
"Ssstollar's cock! Lemme ssleep, you sssack of jivi ssshit!"
Their captive never even opened his eyes, instead trying to turn over. Except he couldn't with Allora's foot pressing down firmly on his chest. He struggled once against her boot, then finally opened his eyes.
"Whaddya wa--?"
He blinked rapidly trying to clear his ale-clouded gaze and saw all of the six foot-tall elf towering over him, the gems in her krisa glowing brightly in the dim light of the cavern. His eyes widened, but it didn't appear to be in fear. A grin split his face at seeing the knight's beauty come into sharper focus, and he hadn't yet realized the situation he was in.
"Well, hello, my lovely. I didn't think we had the coin to pay for whoresss thisss far wessht but you look like your worth every copper!"
From behind Mitchell, Lethelin made a groaning sound that was in time with a severe hardening of Allora's lips and a narrowing of her eyes. Rather than speak, however, she pressed down so hard with that Mitchell heard something pop in the man's chest.
The man howled in agony and let forth a string of curses, spittle erupting from his lips and flying off in all directions as he tried to get out from under her. It was then he finally realized how securely he was bound, and panic began to set in.
"Whass goin on? Who are you? Where'sss Larek? He'sss gonna bloody kill you, you whor--"
Mitchell unleashed a slap across his face again before he could finish that word, then grabbed him roughly by the chin and forced him to finally look at him.
"Hello. I would like it if you didn't call her a whore again."
"Thank you, dear," Allora said and gave Mitchell one of those little smiles that were just for him before turning her cold violet eyes back to the prisoner. Mitchell tried to ignore the flutter in his chest at her calling him dear and focus on the task at hand.
"Larek," he continued, "whichever one he was, is dead. The rest of them are dead, too. I haven't yet decided if you're going to join them."
Mitchell turned and nodded to Allora. From her side, where she'd been holding it, she held up a sword. It wasn't nearly as imposing as her own, but it did have an emblem engraved onto the cross guard, that of three crystal shards behind a cathedral-like structure.
"This is the blade of the city watch in Lorivin," she began, her voice clinical and devoid of emotion. "Although, it has seen better days."
It did indeed look in long need of a polish. Allora had drilled into him the importance of maintaining one's weapon, and he never went to bed after a sparring practice without tending to it. This one hadn't seen a sharpening stone in weeks, at least. The edge was notched in several places and the point had been snapped off. Rust was beginning to spread through the fuller down the middle of the blade.
"It matches the scabbard that is still attached to your belt. Is it yours, or did you steal it?"
The man's chest was heaving now, and his body had gone still. He looked wild-eyed between Mitchell and the towering Allora. The pain and the fear seemed to be sobering him up a lot quicker than sleeping it off had.
"It's mine," he gasped, at last, when it looked like Allora was about to bear down on him again. "I was in the guard. But that's all gone now, so it don't matter."
He wheezed, his chest clearly paining him. Mitchell wondered if she'd cracked a rib.
Allora narrowed her eyes once again, and Mitchell felt him shrink away. Mitchell released the man's jaw now that they had his full attention and sat back to let Allora interrogate him. When she'd found the blade next to the fire as they cleaned up and prepared for their meal, she had immediately begun searching for the matching scabbard. Not finding it among the odds and ends, she checked first him since he was the one remaining and, luckily, he had it still on him, and she didn't need to search the bodies down in the ravine. Finding it buckled to his belt, she had gone very quiet and ate her dinner without speaking.
"What is your name, rank, and who was your commander?" she demanded, her voice containing a hard, military-like edge to it.
He swallowed then answered.
"Kole. Kole Norwell. Guardsman 1st class. My commander was Riston Havel."
Allora's eyes widened slightly, so Mitchell guessed that she knew him.
"Did Commander Havel survive the coup?"
Kole wobbled his head.
"He and all the commanders were executed, and Milandris placed his own people over the city watch."
Allora looked away then, her eyes seeing nothing for a long moment.
"And how did you come to be here, Master Kole, among bandits?" she said at last.
"Wasn't nothing left for me in the capital. I fled. Wife was in the guard too, but she was killed the night it happened. Her unit charged into the palace. They never made it out again. I ran into the countryside, used up what little coin I had, then had to steal to get food. Eventually met up with Larek."
"You swore an oath," Allora's voice was tight with barely contained rage. "You swore an oath to the people of Awenor, and now you rob them? Kill them? Have you no honor?"
This accusation seemed to hit the man somewhere deep. He surged up so quickly that Allora almost lost her balance as her foot rose up against Kole's chest. Mitchell quickly grabbed his shoulder, but the man had stopped. His eyes were glowing with rage.
"What of King Baylor's oath?!" he screamed. "What of his oath to serve the people and protect us? Protect my Mekena! My wife! If he hadn't spent the last years fucking and drinking himself into a stupor, maybe Milandris wouldn't have been able to do what he did!"
Allora did step back then, some of her anger flowing out of her at the man's grievances.
"And what of the oath of the Knights?" Kole demanded. "Why didn't they stop Baylor, may Denass burn his soul?! Why did they stand by and do nothing while Awenor started to fall apart?! Don't speak to me of oaths, woman! There are no oaths left in Awenor. They died with the knights! They died with my Mekena!"
The man slumped back to the ground and stared blankly at the ceiling of the cavern. Mitchell didn't think he was really seeing it, though. His body was limp and unmoving.
Mitchell stood to go to Allora, who looked at Kole with a look of horror on her face.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
He put his hand on her arm, and this seemed to startle her back to the present.
"I..." But she didn't continue. Instead, she looked down at the sword in her hand and then to her own sword, wrapped once again to hide the stone in the pommel. She placed the guardsman's sword gently on the ground.
"I need to be alone, please. Excuse me."
She turned and went outside into the pre-dawn light. Lethelin came up then and watched with him.
"Going to go after her?" she asked.
"No. She needs the time. I'll give her a bit."
