chapter seventeen
Victorious awoke and was quite surprised at that. He was awake. The dead did not typically open their eyes, gasp for breath, and then wince in pain. His head was swimming, further proof that he had survived... survived what? A duel with someone. A duel with someone. A duel with a Rider of Godii. Securion. Rever. Jon Rever.
Looking about he saw that he was in a small room. There was a window directly before him. Light streamed through, indirectly. He could not see the sun, could not tell what time it was, and that was annoying. He was in a bed, and judging by the various bottles and vials on the table under the window, some sort of house of Healing. What was it the Siguardians called them? Shonistas. He was also not alone in the room. A chair was pulled up next to his bed. There was a Siguardian thor, and behind her, the door to the room. On the other side of his bed stood a man who might have also been a thor. It was difficult to discern. His mind felt like it was adrift on a sea of fog, and his body ached there, there, and especially there. He tried to rub his neck and couldn't. His arm was...numb? Gone? He struggled for a moment. Numb then. He sighed in relief and realized that his ribs ached, but not terribly. He had been drugged.
"Good morning, Victorious Difont." The thor's hair was tied back severely, her dark grey uniform was crisp and unblemished, and her eyes shone dully like iron. "My name is Kel Bourna, and my office is investigation. We've been waiting on you, but not too long now." She let her dark eyes slide away long enough to acknowledge her companion. "This is my assistant, Ran Sian." Her assistant beamed at Victorious. He did not seem to be wearing any particular uniform or badge of office. Just typical, bright Siguardian colors.
Victorious wondered if he could speak. It turned out he could. "Thank you, madame." His voice was a dry rasp. He nearly choked on the words. Immediately the other, this Ran fellow, fetched a pitcher and cup from the far table and poured on his way to a little table to Victorious's right. Rather than make such an unpleasant sound again, Victorious nodded in courtesy, then felt his arm unresponsive and wondered how he might drink.
Ran spoke in a voice both pleasant and familiar, as if they had lived and loved all their lives as close friends. "Please, allow me, Captain." His eyes twinkled as he gracefully swept the cup up to Victorious lips and gingerly poured. He did not spill a drop. The liquid relieved his dry throat with equal parts sweetness and cold. Victorious smiled at the man and with some struggle and assistance, was soon sitting up, propped up by many well-fluffed pillows. He nodded at this kind man once again, received another assisted drink just as graceful as the first, and believed he could speak more fitting now.
"My thanks, Ran Sian. I am... I have only limited control of my mind and body just now, it seems."
Ran smiled at him and told Victorious that all he needed to do was nod in his direction if he wished for more pin juice, without once speaking a word. Deep, telling eyes in that one. A stark contrast to this other--
"Very good to hear you speaking, Victorious. I hope you will have much to say."
Victorious nodded and smiled. "Some accounting of recent events, and how I came to be here; a Siguardian peacekeeper would naturally be interested, I should think." Ah yes. His voice seemed much more itself again. His wayward head thought for a moment how nice it would be if there were real, fresh pin juice more readily available back in Godii.
"Many things interest me, sir. I am, as I have stated, an investigator." Victorious decided he did not trust those dark eyes. Their bearing was far too harsh for a house of healing. They bespoke urgency scarcely withheld much more clearly than her smooth voice. How old was she? Younger than this Ran, who was at least fifty summers by the look--but not by much. "The tale of your superior, Ambassador Abor, was of particular interest to me." Her face was hard and grave, and soon melted from Victorious's vision as his head reeled from more than the results of any ointment or drug he'd been given. Laen! What had become of Laen and the others?
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Laen Abor was tired of this game. He was a prisoner, despite all assurances to the contrary. He'd been kept alone in this room, the Five Fathers knew where, for what seemed like a fortnight. In sooth, it had only been half that time, but there it was. Time passed far too slowly for one who's freedom of movement had been stolen from him. He looked out the window into the night sky. A chill breeze, a Harvest wind, caressed his face. It carried infinitely more warmth than this lady and her grinning charlatan of an assistant.
"Return to the table and show me due respect, ambassador. This is a grave matter. I require your attention."
Laen sauntered back to the table to take his seat, careful to let every movement bely his utter lack of respect for this constant badgering. He had disliked this thor and her so-called assistant from the start, several days ago now. Every day, and the implications and lies continued to fly at him. He reclined in the wooden chair until it threatened to topple over backwards and placed his hands on the small table between them.
It was a nicely furnished room, albeit a little on the small side for Laen's taste, but no less a prison. And he was being interrogated. "Forgive me, Lady Bourna. I believe you were saying something rather absurd regarding my character. Do continue." He reached for his cup and was disappointed to find it empty. The decanter was on a small table next to the door. Next to the ever standing, ever smiling assistant, this Sian fellow. Ran Sian made no indication that he had any intention of filling Laen's cup. This was becoming a nightly routine, and quite a tiring one at that. He sighed and locked eyes with Kel Bourna once more.
"Character? Lack thereof, more rightly. I have spoken to many of your contacts here in Siguard. Do you know a Councilor named Kiand?"
"Yes, I believe I met him at a party not too long ago. Jone Kiand. A pleasant fellow." He was sure to let his voice convey just how unpleasant he found his current company by comparison.
"Do you also know his wife, Lady Kiand?"
"We were introduced."
Bourna nearly snorted with contempt. "Introduced. Yes. Well, neither of them spoke very highly of your character. In fact," she reclined now, eyes half-slitted in cool regard, "to a person, not one official, not one individual who claimed to know you seemed to trust you."
"Clearly you have yet to speak to Victorious."
"Ah, ambassador, but we have. He awoke today." She turned and invited Ran Sian to join the conversation. He grinned, but otherwise appeared to decline the invitation. And he still wasn't coming forth with the decanter at his elbow. Typical. The thor was still speaking. Laen feined interest, if only to glean some truth regarding Victorious's condition from her account, which like all the others, was sure to be twisted and malicious. It was. "He had much to say, for one who had passed so close to death's door. He is a strong one. And a determined one. And quite forthcoming in letting us know that you tortured and killed Garth Vencher."
Laen raised an eyebrow at this, and little else. This was not the first such implication. These Siguardians were on some sort of hunt, and their desperation was palpable in the form of his interrogators. He sighed and simply shook his head. "Are you certain you spoke to Victorious Difont? Tall fellow, very pretty voice, Godiian?"
Bourna did not take the bait. "Oh, quite sure. Why would you do this? How did this serve your office and mission here in Siguard? Or are you perhaps more than just an ambassador? A spy, an assassin, perhaps, Laen? That was the impression Victorious Difont made. He doesn't trust you anymore than I do."
Laen was trying to fish out the last few drops from his cup with a flourish he hoped would catch the attention of Ran, the keeper of refreshments. Alas, it seemed to be in vain. Ran just sat their with that half-smile. He only seemed to be partially in the room. Room. Boom. Doom. Gloom. "Gloomy. You two are such a gloomy, sordid pair." He brought down his empty cup with a crack. Nobody winced, no pin juice was fetched. Laen's smile soured. "Victorious trusts me completely. We go a long way back, the two of us." He shared his disparaging expression with Ran at the door. That ever-locked door. "Longer than the two of you, at any rate."
Bourna smiled. It was cold, she was cold. "Perhaps he trusts you to take his life should he fail to follow orders. Perhaps that is why you instructed him to dress one of his sergeants as a Rider of Godii--garments that to my eyes would have fit you better than the corpse we fetched from the street--and slay this imposter in public view just to support your incredible, far-fetched reckoning of events. You gave him just such an order, did you not?"
Laen smiled. It was full of warmth. "I of course gave no such order, you are lying, you know it, and what do I have to do to get a glass of pin juice, exactly? Confess? Alright, I confess. I am trying to take over Siguard City single-handedly, and might have succeeded but for your vigilance and sharp eye, Thor Bourna. Now." Laen tapped his cup and smirked at the two of them. "You have it. My utter confession. You've won. You may go. Leave the decanter."
Returning his smile, Bourna reached down into a bag at her side and produced a sheet of parchment, spinning it with her hand across the table to face Laen even as her companion stepped forward and set down a quill and ink beside it. "Would you care to put that in writing for me, Ambassador?"
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The many pillows propped up behind his back offered little comfort as Victorious sat upright in his bed and again struggled with his own thoughts as much as with his accuser. "You create such a fancied, elaborate scheme at my honor's expense, Thor Bourna, to arrive at your wild conclusions. Does not my accounting, more sooth and much less fancy, better satisfy the needs of your investigation?"
Bourna was unmoved. "Shall I repeat the question, then? Why did you kill Garth Vencher? We know you did it. Your ambassador has already told us all about it. May I remind you that things will go far better for you if you return your friend's gesture and name him as the one who gave the order? Why protect him with lies and evasion?"
Ran Sian returned to the room with fresh juice and immediately poured a cup for Victorious and set it on the small bedside table. Victorious offered a very brief courtesy and took a long drink. How many more days of this madness was he expected to endure? This was no way to treat a prisoner. At this he paused, then swallowed and set the cup back down, hopefully on the table. He hadn't thought of this before, but there was no denying that he was a prisoner. The shonas and their house of healing notwithstanding, he was captive and would be subjected to continued interrogation until the Siguardian authorities were satisfied.
Thor Bourna's eyes burned with such intensity, he had to pause and remind himself that he was of course innocent of these ridiculous charges. Victorious replayed the grisly scene in his mind, the image of Rever carving out the last of Garth Vencher's life in the name of his own twisted interrogation. Victorious had killed Rever, this was true. There had been no choice once the torture and violation of all protocol was revealed. Rever had turned his blade upon Laen and left Garth to die with a final, vicious stab to his torn stomach. Of course, Victorious had no intention at first of taking Jon Rever's life, but once he crossed blades with the Rider, he found himself caught in a battle for his own survival. His contempt for laws and due process already revealed, Rever had every intention and all the skill required to take Victorious's life.
But they were not here to inquire as to why a Godiian killed a Godiian on the streets of Siguard. They had lost their great hero, a noble man Victorious had only just begun to know and admire. Pressure from on high had surely descended upon this thor and her assistant to ascertain beyond all doubt the manner and reasons behind Sir Vencher's untimely passing. Victorious winced, not at any pain his own, but at the memory of that single thrust that spiked Garth to the floor. He had tried, beyond all pain and durance, to preserve Laen from Rever's blade, and the Rider's retribution was swift and final. Any chance Garth would emerge from that deep cellar to live out his days ended with that craven blow. Victorious half-imagined he was drawing his sword in shock and utter dismay once more. He could still see the fire in Jon Rever's dark eyes...
No, that was many, many days ago. He was gazing into Kel Bourna's dark eyes now. "Laen would speak no such lies. I pray, relent! Your constant harassment and accusations are enough to make one's head spin."
"Why do you protect Laen, Captain?" Ran's voice swept aside the fire between Victorious and Kel Bourna like a healthy Spring rain. He took a seat at the other side of Victorious's bed, eyes twinkling with curiousity that seemed genuine. However, Victorious had learned over the course of the past several days, to be wary of the kind tormentor and the cruel tormentor routine. Both were still tormentors involved in an investigation so woefully wide of the mark.
"I have always protected Laen. He has often required much of it, with his silver tongue and mind quickened." Victorious smiled and availed himself of the juice. It was good to move his own limbs again, to be able to fetch his own refreshment. "Of course, I doubt he requires my services in the face of errant accusations such as these."
This caught Bourna's attention. "He cried like a baby in the absence of your services, DiFont! Even as he betrayed you to us, he sobbed like a blessed child."
Victorious held his drink steady in his lap with both hands and stared at the window. It appeared to be a beautiful day outside. He wished he were recovered enough to take a walk. "He may very well have cried. He is given to emotional outbursts and high drama, from time to time. But there could be no betrayal. There is," he calmly eyed the thor over his cup as he finished the cool juice, "none to speak of. You dishonor me every time you suggest otherwise. Madame."
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Thor Bourna pace the floor on the far side of the table from Laen. "You are in a great deal of trouble, Laen Abor. Far from home, with blood on your hands, the testimony of your so-called friend Victorious has placed you in a very precarious situation. Yet you could yet save yourself if you will only call him a liar and tell us what you know. You are an ambassador, not a murderer. It was Difont, was it not? He killed Garth Vencher and then fabricated the tale of this Godiian spy amidst your ranks, callously sacrificing the life of one of his own to offer validity to his tale. Speak the truth, ambassador--if such is possible--and your life will be spared. In time, your freedom might even be regained."
Void take this fool of a thor and her companion and his useless grin. "Void take you and your companion and his useless grin, Bourna. This is nonsense, a ridiculous game conducted by ridiculous investigators. Your government should be ashamed to suffer such incompetence. I did no wrong. Say what you will, it cannot alter this fact."
"You would denounce the sworn testimony of your embassy's staff and guard, and yet fail to rightly name Difont as the executioner? Is self-preservation a value at all prized in Godii, ambassador?"
"We are not in Godii, thor. And friendship and trust weigh much more heavily than vile suggestions that I lie and condemn Victorious in the face of your repeated threats." Laen uncrossed his arms and aimed a long finger at Bourna. "You are a disgrace to your people. A people, a very nation we risked all to protect. But for the vigilance of me and mine, Jon Rever would yet be alive and halfway to Godii with the secret of the Krysli in tow. I deserve a parade, not this charade." Laen smiled, delighted as always whenever he found himself rhyming. Perhaps he would write this thor a poem. But what would rhyme with imbecile?
"If you persist in protecting Difont, you will earn only death, quite deserved in my estimation."
Laen snorted. "You think you're the first person, lady, to wish me dead?"
Bourna turned swiftly and brought both fists down hard upon the table. "I may just be the first with the power to grant this wish, on behalf of the People of Siguard, our fallen hero Garth Vencher, and all others you have borne falsehood to across the length of your brief but illustrious career. I can make you a dead man."
Laen paused. Dead man, head man, red man. Red blood. Brown mud. Mud and muck. Laen's old luck. Dead man, head man. "Head for the mountains, dear lady Bourna. Such barbarism and contempt for law is better appreciated in the wilds than in the heart of your Triad's citadel. It is you and your government who find themselves in a precarious situation, not I. You have a living ambassador whose nation will soon be inquiring after his health." Laen turned away, affecting disinterest. "If they haven't done so already. You'll not lay a finger upon me or my staff or my friend. Period. Surely, this is a matter for the High council, far beyond the ken of a common thor such as yourself." Laen watched this last insult sink into Bourna's misbegotten flesh with some pleasure. "You are below me, Bourna. I call for a hearing with your High Council! I have played along as well as I could, understanding as I do the pressure you must be under, but no more." Laen turned and stabbed the thor's vaguely-smiling companion with his eyes. "Ran! Attend! I should like a glass of that pin juice now!"
Ran Sian immediately stepped forward with decanter and cup in hand, still smiling. "How interesting you should demand such a hearing, ambassador. For the High Council has demanded the very same." He poured, watching Laen. Laen returned his gaze, even as he lifted his cup. Finally Ran stepped back and Laen offered him some small courtesy.
Kel Bourna rose with much clatter. "May the Council have mercy upon you, Abor. You are sure to find they are possessed of much less restraint than I am."
Laen winked at her. "Ah, but I shall once again be among equals."
Kel shrugged, turning to depart. "Say what you will. You are still my prisoner until the Council tells me otherwise. I do not think they shall."
"Say what you will if it makes you feel better, lost little thor. I will be sure to release myself from your care as soon as the Council sees fit to hear reason. Good day, Bourna."
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Victorious waited for Thor Bourna to follow Ran Sian into his room. She did not, and he was quite surprised to watch her assistant close the door and take the thor's customary chair at the side of his bed. "Good morning, Thor Sian."
Ran laughed heartily and placed both hands upon his knees, for all of Sid as if he had not been party to a long and steady campaign to dishonor Victorious. His eyes were twinkling with mirth, goodwill, and something less discernible. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Captain Difont. I am no thor." He smiled and looked at the table, where Victorious already had his cup, alongside the remnants of his breakfast. "The shonas tell me you were up and about this morning. How do you feel?"
"Tired, sir, but heartened to walk under my own power. I'm told that I shall bear scars to the end of my days, and perhaps a limp as well, but my strength returns ever more each passing day. Thank you for asking."
Ran took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled and utterly dispelled the mystery of the long interrogation. "We owe you an apology, Victorious, for in sooth, you did indeed perform a bold service to my nation at the cost of the goodwill of your own. It was your friend the ambassador of which we had to be sure. Forgive us this charade and any discomfort it brought you. Garth Vencher lies dead and we had to be sure."
Victorious nodded. "I forgive you, if this truly be the end of your comrade's sordid implications against my honor and that of my friend."
An eyebrow jumped on Ran's forehead. "Laen Abor's honor? Is there such a thing, I wonder?"
Victorious looked away from Ran and instead took in the view outside the window. The lane outside was covered in lush grass and flanked by many-colored flowers. He had enjoyed his brief walk this morning, and the brisk morning air of Harvest. "Many wonder, sir, and I cannot fairly blame them. Laen loves to dance and play with words for his own amusement. Many question his integrity and are left guessing as to his motivations. I do not count myself among this number."
Ran's smile returned at this. "You must understand, captain, that we spoke to many this past fortnight. All who knew anything of yourself and especially Ambassador Abor. In his brief tenure as the Godiian ambassador, he has made quite an impression upon the high society of Siguard City. Many meetings with many important movers, politicians and merchants alike. And I suspect, no small number of trysts with the wives and mistresses of the same. The most remarkable thing I found was that to a person, nobody seems to trust your friend. And yet they all allowed him their company and confidence without seeming to know why. He does indeed dance well, your friend."
"That he does, sir. It can be maddening at times, but such is his manner. We each of us have our strengths and weaknesses."
"Indeed. Now, picture for a moment if you will, friend, the situation facing our nation in the wake of this recent tragedy. We have an ambassador who offered, or more likely, was forced to offer asylum to a Godiian spy. A Rider, quite likely a member of your General's vaunted Securion, if the Bardeenian contingent we interviewed speaks truthfully. He was killed in broad daylight outside of your embassy. You, a soldier of Godii and captain of the Embassy Guard took his life in front of several witnesses, though you yourself were gravely wounded in the process." Ran sighed and looked down at his lap. "Gravely wounded, in the courageous defense of your friend the ambassador and the mortally-wounded Garth Vencher. This was a very courageous act. I am saddened that we cannot properly honor you at this time."
"I understand. You fear this will become an international incident, one that may bode ill for Siguard."
"It may, if not handled carefully. You will be interviewed by the High Council, but I assure you, " he placed a gentle hand on Victorious's bandaged arm, "no more charades. You will be treated with respect." Ran stood and walked to the window, gazing out as if to gauge the day's weather. "This is a very serious matter. A member of the Triad itself, one familiar with the tale of events, will be in attendance." He turned and faced Victorious from the foot of the bed. "You will be treated well. We have already taken drastic measures to ensure that you will be safe from any potential retribution from Godii. Surely you realize that you may never return to your homeland, sir?"
Victorious looked down upon the length of his body stretched out before him. He longed to sweep aside the sterile sheets and run, run all the way home to seek out Darsa and hold her fast, never to let go. "The thought has weighed upon me, yes. If I return to Godii, I invite my own dishonor and death as a traitor. Further, I would invite the dishonor and death of all I hold dear. So ironic, given my years of steadfast service. I love my homeland, sir. But I could not countenance Rever's utter contempt for law and our People's Charter. I could not idly stand by as mute witness to torture and the bloodletting of one I might have named a true friend, given time. I had no choice. Any man of honor would have done the same." His eyes began to mist. Had he truly killed a member of his own Securion? "I spare no thought on my own destiny now. I only wish that Garth Vencher had survived."
"Well, I'm sorry, Victorious of Godii, but he did not." Ran leaned forward now, meeting Victorious with ominous eyes. A cloud passed the sun outside, dimming the light in the room. "And neither did you."
Looking about he saw that he was in a small room. There was a window directly before him. Light streamed through, indirectly. He could not see the sun, could not tell what time it was, and that was annoying. He was in a bed, and judging by the various bottles and vials on the table under the window, some sort of house of Healing. What was it the Siguardians called them? Shonistas. He was also not alone in the room. A chair was pulled up next to his bed. There was a Siguardian thor, and behind her, the door to the room. On the other side of his bed stood a man who might have also been a thor. It was difficult to discern. His mind felt like it was adrift on a sea of fog, and his body ached there, there, and especially there. He tried to rub his neck and couldn't. His arm was...numb? Gone? He struggled for a moment. Numb then. He sighed in relief and realized that his ribs ached, but not terribly. He had been drugged.
"Good morning, Victorious Difont." The thor's hair was tied back severely, her dark grey uniform was crisp and unblemished, and her eyes shone dully like iron. "My name is Kel Bourna, and my office is investigation. We've been waiting on you, but not too long now." She let her dark eyes slide away long enough to acknowledge her companion. "This is my assistant, Ran Sian." Her assistant beamed at Victorious. He did not seem to be wearing any particular uniform or badge of office. Just typical, bright Siguardian colors.
Victorious wondered if he could speak. It turned out he could. "Thank you, madame." His voice was a dry rasp. He nearly choked on the words. Immediately the other, this Ran fellow, fetched a pitcher and cup from the far table and poured on his way to a little table to Victorious's right. Rather than make such an unpleasant sound again, Victorious nodded in courtesy, then felt his arm unresponsive and wondered how he might drink.
Ran spoke in a voice both pleasant and familiar, as if they had lived and loved all their lives as close friends. "Please, allow me, Captain." His eyes twinkled as he gracefully swept the cup up to Victorious lips and gingerly poured. He did not spill a drop. The liquid relieved his dry throat with equal parts sweetness and cold. Victorious smiled at the man and with some struggle and assistance, was soon sitting up, propped up by many well-fluffed pillows. He nodded at this kind man once again, received another assisted drink just as graceful as the first, and believed he could speak more fitting now.
"My thanks, Ran Sian. I am... I have only limited control of my mind and body just now, it seems."
Ran smiled at him and told Victorious that all he needed to do was nod in his direction if he wished for more pin juice, without once speaking a word. Deep, telling eyes in that one. A stark contrast to this other--
"Very good to hear you speaking, Victorious. I hope you will have much to say."
Victorious nodded and smiled. "Some accounting of recent events, and how I came to be here; a Siguardian peacekeeper would naturally be interested, I should think." Ah yes. His voice seemed much more itself again. His wayward head thought for a moment how nice it would be if there were real, fresh pin juice more readily available back in Godii.
"Many things interest me, sir. I am, as I have stated, an investigator." Victorious decided he did not trust those dark eyes. Their bearing was far too harsh for a house of healing. They bespoke urgency scarcely withheld much more clearly than her smooth voice. How old was she? Younger than this Ran, who was at least fifty summers by the look--but not by much. "The tale of your superior, Ambassador Abor, was of particular interest to me." Her face was hard and grave, and soon melted from Victorious's vision as his head reeled from more than the results of any ointment or drug he'd been given. Laen! What had become of Laen and the others?
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Laen Abor was tired of this game. He was a prisoner, despite all assurances to the contrary. He'd been kept alone in this room, the Five Fathers knew where, for what seemed like a fortnight. In sooth, it had only been half that time, but there it was. Time passed far too slowly for one who's freedom of movement had been stolen from him. He looked out the window into the night sky. A chill breeze, a Harvest wind, caressed his face. It carried infinitely more warmth than this lady and her grinning charlatan of an assistant.
"Return to the table and show me due respect, ambassador. This is a grave matter. I require your attention."
Laen sauntered back to the table to take his seat, careful to let every movement bely his utter lack of respect for this constant badgering. He had disliked this thor and her so-called assistant from the start, several days ago now. Every day, and the implications and lies continued to fly at him. He reclined in the wooden chair until it threatened to topple over backwards and placed his hands on the small table between them.
It was a nicely furnished room, albeit a little on the small side for Laen's taste, but no less a prison. And he was being interrogated. "Forgive me, Lady Bourna. I believe you were saying something rather absurd regarding my character. Do continue." He reached for his cup and was disappointed to find it empty. The decanter was on a small table next to the door. Next to the ever standing, ever smiling assistant, this Sian fellow. Ran Sian made no indication that he had any intention of filling Laen's cup. This was becoming a nightly routine, and quite a tiring one at that. He sighed and locked eyes with Kel Bourna once more.
"Character? Lack thereof, more rightly. I have spoken to many of your contacts here in Siguard. Do you know a Councilor named Kiand?"
"Yes, I believe I met him at a party not too long ago. Jone Kiand. A pleasant fellow." He was sure to let his voice convey just how unpleasant he found his current company by comparison.
"Do you also know his wife, Lady Kiand?"
"We were introduced."
Bourna nearly snorted with contempt. "Introduced. Yes. Well, neither of them spoke very highly of your character. In fact," she reclined now, eyes half-slitted in cool regard, "to a person, not one official, not one individual who claimed to know you seemed to trust you."
"Clearly you have yet to speak to Victorious."
"Ah, ambassador, but we have. He awoke today." She turned and invited Ran Sian to join the conversation. He grinned, but otherwise appeared to decline the invitation. And he still wasn't coming forth with the decanter at his elbow. Typical. The thor was still speaking. Laen feined interest, if only to glean some truth regarding Victorious's condition from her account, which like all the others, was sure to be twisted and malicious. It was. "He had much to say, for one who had passed so close to death's door. He is a strong one. And a determined one. And quite forthcoming in letting us know that you tortured and killed Garth Vencher."
Laen raised an eyebrow at this, and little else. This was not the first such implication. These Siguardians were on some sort of hunt, and their desperation was palpable in the form of his interrogators. He sighed and simply shook his head. "Are you certain you spoke to Victorious Difont? Tall fellow, very pretty voice, Godiian?"
Bourna did not take the bait. "Oh, quite sure. Why would you do this? How did this serve your office and mission here in Siguard? Or are you perhaps more than just an ambassador? A spy, an assassin, perhaps, Laen? That was the impression Victorious Difont made. He doesn't trust you anymore than I do."
Laen was trying to fish out the last few drops from his cup with a flourish he hoped would catch the attention of Ran, the keeper of refreshments. Alas, it seemed to be in vain. Ran just sat their with that half-smile. He only seemed to be partially in the room. Room. Boom. Doom. Gloom. "Gloomy. You two are such a gloomy, sordid pair." He brought down his empty cup with a crack. Nobody winced, no pin juice was fetched. Laen's smile soured. "Victorious trusts me completely. We go a long way back, the two of us." He shared his disparaging expression with Ran at the door. That ever-locked door. "Longer than the two of you, at any rate."
Bourna smiled. It was cold, she was cold. "Perhaps he trusts you to take his life should he fail to follow orders. Perhaps that is why you instructed him to dress one of his sergeants as a Rider of Godii--garments that to my eyes would have fit you better than the corpse we fetched from the street--and slay this imposter in public view just to support your incredible, far-fetched reckoning of events. You gave him just such an order, did you not?"
Laen smiled. It was full of warmth. "I of course gave no such order, you are lying, you know it, and what do I have to do to get a glass of pin juice, exactly? Confess? Alright, I confess. I am trying to take over Siguard City single-handedly, and might have succeeded but for your vigilance and sharp eye, Thor Bourna. Now." Laen tapped his cup and smirked at the two of them. "You have it. My utter confession. You've won. You may go. Leave the decanter."
Returning his smile, Bourna reached down into a bag at her side and produced a sheet of parchment, spinning it with her hand across the table to face Laen even as her companion stepped forward and set down a quill and ink beside it. "Would you care to put that in writing for me, Ambassador?"
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The many pillows propped up behind his back offered little comfort as Victorious sat upright in his bed and again struggled with his own thoughts as much as with his accuser. "You create such a fancied, elaborate scheme at my honor's expense, Thor Bourna, to arrive at your wild conclusions. Does not my accounting, more sooth and much less fancy, better satisfy the needs of your investigation?"
Bourna was unmoved. "Shall I repeat the question, then? Why did you kill Garth Vencher? We know you did it. Your ambassador has already told us all about it. May I remind you that things will go far better for you if you return your friend's gesture and name him as the one who gave the order? Why protect him with lies and evasion?"
Ran Sian returned to the room with fresh juice and immediately poured a cup for Victorious and set it on the small bedside table. Victorious offered a very brief courtesy and took a long drink. How many more days of this madness was he expected to endure? This was no way to treat a prisoner. At this he paused, then swallowed and set the cup back down, hopefully on the table. He hadn't thought of this before, but there was no denying that he was a prisoner. The shonas and their house of healing notwithstanding, he was captive and would be subjected to continued interrogation until the Siguardian authorities were satisfied.
Thor Bourna's eyes burned with such intensity, he had to pause and remind himself that he was of course innocent of these ridiculous charges. Victorious replayed the grisly scene in his mind, the image of Rever carving out the last of Garth Vencher's life in the name of his own twisted interrogation. Victorious had killed Rever, this was true. There had been no choice once the torture and violation of all protocol was revealed. Rever had turned his blade upon Laen and left Garth to die with a final, vicious stab to his torn stomach. Of course, Victorious had no intention at first of taking Jon Rever's life, but once he crossed blades with the Rider, he found himself caught in a battle for his own survival. His contempt for laws and due process already revealed, Rever had every intention and all the skill required to take Victorious's life.
But they were not here to inquire as to why a Godiian killed a Godiian on the streets of Siguard. They had lost their great hero, a noble man Victorious had only just begun to know and admire. Pressure from on high had surely descended upon this thor and her assistant to ascertain beyond all doubt the manner and reasons behind Sir Vencher's untimely passing. Victorious winced, not at any pain his own, but at the memory of that single thrust that spiked Garth to the floor. He had tried, beyond all pain and durance, to preserve Laen from Rever's blade, and the Rider's retribution was swift and final. Any chance Garth would emerge from that deep cellar to live out his days ended with that craven blow. Victorious half-imagined he was drawing his sword in shock and utter dismay once more. He could still see the fire in Jon Rever's dark eyes...
No, that was many, many days ago. He was gazing into Kel Bourna's dark eyes now. "Laen would speak no such lies. I pray, relent! Your constant harassment and accusations are enough to make one's head spin."
"Why do you protect Laen, Captain?" Ran's voice swept aside the fire between Victorious and Kel Bourna like a healthy Spring rain. He took a seat at the other side of Victorious's bed, eyes twinkling with curiousity that seemed genuine. However, Victorious had learned over the course of the past several days, to be wary of the kind tormentor and the cruel tormentor routine. Both were still tormentors involved in an investigation so woefully wide of the mark.
"I have always protected Laen. He has often required much of it, with his silver tongue and mind quickened." Victorious smiled and availed himself of the juice. It was good to move his own limbs again, to be able to fetch his own refreshment. "Of course, I doubt he requires my services in the face of errant accusations such as these."
This caught Bourna's attention. "He cried like a baby in the absence of your services, DiFont! Even as he betrayed you to us, he sobbed like a blessed child."
Victorious held his drink steady in his lap with both hands and stared at the window. It appeared to be a beautiful day outside. He wished he were recovered enough to take a walk. "He may very well have cried. He is given to emotional outbursts and high drama, from time to time. But there could be no betrayal. There is," he calmly eyed the thor over his cup as he finished the cool juice, "none to speak of. You dishonor me every time you suggest otherwise. Madame."
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Thor Bourna pace the floor on the far side of the table from Laen. "You are in a great deal of trouble, Laen Abor. Far from home, with blood on your hands, the testimony of your so-called friend Victorious has placed you in a very precarious situation. Yet you could yet save yourself if you will only call him a liar and tell us what you know. You are an ambassador, not a murderer. It was Difont, was it not? He killed Garth Vencher and then fabricated the tale of this Godiian spy amidst your ranks, callously sacrificing the life of one of his own to offer validity to his tale. Speak the truth, ambassador--if such is possible--and your life will be spared. In time, your freedom might even be regained."
Void take this fool of a thor and her companion and his useless grin. "Void take you and your companion and his useless grin, Bourna. This is nonsense, a ridiculous game conducted by ridiculous investigators. Your government should be ashamed to suffer such incompetence. I did no wrong. Say what you will, it cannot alter this fact."
"You would denounce the sworn testimony of your embassy's staff and guard, and yet fail to rightly name Difont as the executioner? Is self-preservation a value at all prized in Godii, ambassador?"
"We are not in Godii, thor. And friendship and trust weigh much more heavily than vile suggestions that I lie and condemn Victorious in the face of your repeated threats." Laen uncrossed his arms and aimed a long finger at Bourna. "You are a disgrace to your people. A people, a very nation we risked all to protect. But for the vigilance of me and mine, Jon Rever would yet be alive and halfway to Godii with the secret of the Krysli in tow. I deserve a parade, not this charade." Laen smiled, delighted as always whenever he found himself rhyming. Perhaps he would write this thor a poem. But what would rhyme with imbecile?
"If you persist in protecting Difont, you will earn only death, quite deserved in my estimation."
Laen snorted. "You think you're the first person, lady, to wish me dead?"
Bourna turned swiftly and brought both fists down hard upon the table. "I may just be the first with the power to grant this wish, on behalf of the People of Siguard, our fallen hero Garth Vencher, and all others you have borne falsehood to across the length of your brief but illustrious career. I can make you a dead man."
Laen paused. Dead man, head man, red man. Red blood. Brown mud. Mud and muck. Laen's old luck. Dead man, head man. "Head for the mountains, dear lady Bourna. Such barbarism and contempt for law is better appreciated in the wilds than in the heart of your Triad's citadel. It is you and your government who find themselves in a precarious situation, not I. You have a living ambassador whose nation will soon be inquiring after his health." Laen turned away, affecting disinterest. "If they haven't done so already. You'll not lay a finger upon me or my staff or my friend. Period. Surely, this is a matter for the High council, far beyond the ken of a common thor such as yourself." Laen watched this last insult sink into Bourna's misbegotten flesh with some pleasure. "You are below me, Bourna. I call for a hearing with your High Council! I have played along as well as I could, understanding as I do the pressure you must be under, but no more." Laen turned and stabbed the thor's vaguely-smiling companion with his eyes. "Ran! Attend! I should like a glass of that pin juice now!"
Ran Sian immediately stepped forward with decanter and cup in hand, still smiling. "How interesting you should demand such a hearing, ambassador. For the High Council has demanded the very same." He poured, watching Laen. Laen returned his gaze, even as he lifted his cup. Finally Ran stepped back and Laen offered him some small courtesy.
Kel Bourna rose with much clatter. "May the Council have mercy upon you, Abor. You are sure to find they are possessed of much less restraint than I am."
Laen winked at her. "Ah, but I shall once again be among equals."
Kel shrugged, turning to depart. "Say what you will. You are still my prisoner until the Council tells me otherwise. I do not think they shall."
"Say what you will if it makes you feel better, lost little thor. I will be sure to release myself from your care as soon as the Council sees fit to hear reason. Good day, Bourna."
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Victorious waited for Thor Bourna to follow Ran Sian into his room. She did not, and he was quite surprised to watch her assistant close the door and take the thor's customary chair at the side of his bed. "Good morning, Thor Sian."
Ran laughed heartily and placed both hands upon his knees, for all of Sid as if he had not been party to a long and steady campaign to dishonor Victorious. His eyes were twinkling with mirth, goodwill, and something less discernible. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Captain Difont. I am no thor." He smiled and looked at the table, where Victorious already had his cup, alongside the remnants of his breakfast. "The shonas tell me you were up and about this morning. How do you feel?"
"Tired, sir, but heartened to walk under my own power. I'm told that I shall bear scars to the end of my days, and perhaps a limp as well, but my strength returns ever more each passing day. Thank you for asking."
Ran took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled and utterly dispelled the mystery of the long interrogation. "We owe you an apology, Victorious, for in sooth, you did indeed perform a bold service to my nation at the cost of the goodwill of your own. It was your friend the ambassador of which we had to be sure. Forgive us this charade and any discomfort it brought you. Garth Vencher lies dead and we had to be sure."
Victorious nodded. "I forgive you, if this truly be the end of your comrade's sordid implications against my honor and that of my friend."
An eyebrow jumped on Ran's forehead. "Laen Abor's honor? Is there such a thing, I wonder?"
Victorious looked away from Ran and instead took in the view outside the window. The lane outside was covered in lush grass and flanked by many-colored flowers. He had enjoyed his brief walk this morning, and the brisk morning air of Harvest. "Many wonder, sir, and I cannot fairly blame them. Laen loves to dance and play with words for his own amusement. Many question his integrity and are left guessing as to his motivations. I do not count myself among this number."
Ran's smile returned at this. "You must understand, captain, that we spoke to many this past fortnight. All who knew anything of yourself and especially Ambassador Abor. In his brief tenure as the Godiian ambassador, he has made quite an impression upon the high society of Siguard City. Many meetings with many important movers, politicians and merchants alike. And I suspect, no small number of trysts with the wives and mistresses of the same. The most remarkable thing I found was that to a person, nobody seems to trust your friend. And yet they all allowed him their company and confidence without seeming to know why. He does indeed dance well, your friend."
"That he does, sir. It can be maddening at times, but such is his manner. We each of us have our strengths and weaknesses."
"Indeed. Now, picture for a moment if you will, friend, the situation facing our nation in the wake of this recent tragedy. We have an ambassador who offered, or more likely, was forced to offer asylum to a Godiian spy. A Rider, quite likely a member of your General's vaunted Securion, if the Bardeenian contingent we interviewed speaks truthfully. He was killed in broad daylight outside of your embassy. You, a soldier of Godii and captain of the Embassy Guard took his life in front of several witnesses, though you yourself were gravely wounded in the process." Ran sighed and looked down at his lap. "Gravely wounded, in the courageous defense of your friend the ambassador and the mortally-wounded Garth Vencher. This was a very courageous act. I am saddened that we cannot properly honor you at this time."
"I understand. You fear this will become an international incident, one that may bode ill for Siguard."
"It may, if not handled carefully. You will be interviewed by the High Council, but I assure you, " he placed a gentle hand on Victorious's bandaged arm, "no more charades. You will be treated with respect." Ran stood and walked to the window, gazing out as if to gauge the day's weather. "This is a very serious matter. A member of the Triad itself, one familiar with the tale of events, will be in attendance." He turned and faced Victorious from the foot of the bed. "You will be treated well. We have already taken drastic measures to ensure that you will be safe from any potential retribution from Godii. Surely you realize that you may never return to your homeland, sir?"
Victorious looked down upon the length of his body stretched out before him. He longed to sweep aside the sterile sheets and run, run all the way home to seek out Darsa and hold her fast, never to let go. "The thought has weighed upon me, yes. If I return to Godii, I invite my own dishonor and death as a traitor. Further, I would invite the dishonor and death of all I hold dear. So ironic, given my years of steadfast service. I love my homeland, sir. But I could not countenance Rever's utter contempt for law and our People's Charter. I could not idly stand by as mute witness to torture and the bloodletting of one I might have named a true friend, given time. I had no choice. Any man of honor would have done the same." His eyes began to mist. Had he truly killed a member of his own Securion? "I spare no thought on my own destiny now. I only wish that Garth Vencher had survived."
"Well, I'm sorry, Victorious of Godii, but he did not." Ran leaned forward now, meeting Victorious with ominous eyes. A cloud passed the sun outside, dimming the light in the room. "And neither did you."
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