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By then, he had my attention. Coming from anyone else, those might have only been threats designed to frighten me. But Vargan would relish the chance to carry them out. If I didn’t cooperate with him, using one person after another, he would destroy me.
He called for his vigils, then pointed at me and said, “Let the devils humble him. The next time I see this boy, I want him eager to bow at my feet. He will not defy me!”
The vigils bowed to their king and some of them escorted him up the stairs. The others came closer to me, pounding fists into their hands, preparing to carry out Vargan’s orders.
My world had blurred between dreams and reality. Imogen still lived in one world, and nothing but pain existed in the other. Because of that, I spent the greater part of each day clinging to every possible memory of her. That alone kept me alive.
One memory returned to me over and over, a moment I both cherished and hated. When I had untied Imogen from the post, her fingers had combed through my hair. Despite any indifference she had ever shown me, every word she had uttered to make me believe there was nothing but friendship between us, her touch had changed all of that. And if I could have cut off the memory there and thought nothing further, I would have done it. But it was always followed, always, by the image of her twisted expression when the arrow pierced her chest, and the crumpled collapse of her body before it vanished over the hill. That memory had been burned into my mind, and was worse than anything Commander Kippenger or his henchmen could do to me.
Imogen’s last words begged me to choose to live. Why couldn’t she have done the same?
Vargan had left his soldiers with the invitation to torture me at will, and I had expected it would take on the worst form they could design. At first they were cruel to me, every bone in my body knew that. But I was becoming weak from lack of food and no more responsive than a rag doll. They began interrogating me for information, and repaid my silence with total humiliation.
Kippenger even devised a game meant to entertain the simple minds of his men. He placed a single garlin on a flat, embedded rock at the top of my prison walls and ordered me to retrieve it.
I glanced up at the coin, then turned away. The distance wasn’t far — maybe double my height — but it seemed like more. Reaching the garlin while in these chains would be difficult, if not impossible, and I certainly couldn’t see the point of trying.
But Kippenger wanted to play. “Reach the coin, boy,” he said, “and I’ll let you buy your freedom with it.”
Still I didn’t move. Not until his vigil, a brute the others called Terrowic, pulled out his sword and ordered me to climb up for the coin. It hurt to rise to my feet, but I figured that sword would be worse.
The earth surrounding me was soft in some places, but there were also roots and other embedded rocks that could provide holds to help me reach the coin. I still doubted whether I could reach it — if the chains didn’t pull me down, my weaker leg would surely fail me.
After another of Terrowic’s threats, I dug my fingers into the dirt to grab a root, and made my feet climb. The instant I did, Terrowic struck the back of my legs with the broad side of his sword.
I lost my grip and fell backward to the ground. Terrowic stood over me and laughed, then Kippenger ordered me to climb again. After a few more threats I got back to my feet, but climbed no farther before Terrowic hit my legs again. This happened a third time as well, but by the fourth, I only rolled to face the walls and ignored them. Kippenger didn’t take too kindly to my refusal, but I was his prisoner, not his entertainment. I would not play these games.
Kippenger leaned over me as I lay on the ground. “They call you the Ascendant King. So climb. Rise up and get that coin.”
“Remove the chains.”
He laughed, mocking me. “Ah, but that’s just the point, isn’t it? You will never be free of those chains. You cannot reach that coin. You can’t even stand unless I allow it. If a single garlin is beyond your reach, then how can you ever reach freedom? You will never rise again.”
I turned to look at the coin once more and then closed my eyes. Maybe he was right.
By the next day, Kippenger had forgotten about the coin. But he returned with a new strategy. The same woman who had washed me a couple of days earlier came in with a bowl of soup. Kippenger followed her in and ordered me to eat it. I didn’t even look at him until he ordered two other soldiers into the room. One held a stiff rod. I readied myself for more punishment, but instead he ordered the woman to turn and lean against the wall. She gasped in fear and looked at me.
Immediately, the bowl was in my hands. “Let her leave. I’ll eat.” To prove my sincerity I took a sip. Perhaps it was only because I had become so hungry, but the soup tasted like a gift from the saints. I intended to finish it all, and if he offered more, I’d accept it.
Much as I wished things could be different for me, Imogen had been right before: I could not give up here. I had to make the choice to live.
After I began eating, Kippenger ordered the woman and soldiers to leave. Knowing what would likely come once I finished the soup, I took my time. But after I set the bowl down, he said, “You won’t eat to save yourself, but you will to save a stranger. How interesting.” He watched me a moment longer, then continued, “Back in Carthya, you have a large number of soldiers stationed on a bluff, far from any fighting, and overlooking a lake that no longer exists. Why is that?”
“You’ve asked me this already.”
“And you refused to answer. So I’m asking again. Why is your army there?”
“It should be obvious,” I said without looking at him. “They’re waiting for the lake to come back. Perhaps you could join them and go swimming.”
He kicked me in the side, adding to a bruise already there, and then crouched to face me. “Why not work with me? Why not save yourself this pain?”
“You’re not causing me any,” I replied. That wasn’t entirely true — I was still gasping, after all — but I felt better for saying it.
“If I can’t hurt you, then you force me to bring in somebody I can hurt.” He rose to his full height, and then whistled to his vigils outside. Like obedient dogs to his call, they pattered down the stairs. Only this time, they had someone else with them.
“Tobias.” He raised his head when I breathed his name and I saw the remnants of a bloody nose on his face. As good as it was to see him, my heart was already pounding. If Tobias was here, then where were Fink and Amarinda?
His eyes widened when he saw me and he shook his head in disbelief. “Jaron? You’re alive? But they said —”
