From Across the Clouded Range (89 page)

Which was its own irony. Despite days
of continuous torture, Jaret was as healthy as an ox. His ribs were
healed, his legs and arms worked as well or better than before, and
even the aches he had experienced as a part of growing old had
faded. It made the torture all the worse knowing that when it ended
he would be even farther from the only thing he still wanted, his
own death. Locked in a cell, shaking in pain, he would have
welcomed injuries, would have welcomed illness. At least then he
would have some hope that death might follow, might have some hope
for escape.

Jaret was finally drifting off to the
shattered landscape of dreams when the door to his cell swung open
with a crash. Thinking it was Thagas'kiula returned, Jaret cowered
into the corner with his hand up and his legs tucked to his chest.
He could not believe that the thing had returned so soon. If he had
any voice left, he would have started screaming in anticipation of
what was to come. As it was, he could only await the inevitable,
unable to move his hand or open his eyes to see it
coming.

The terrible bite did not come. A
rough hand grabbed the chain that connected his hands and pulled it
to the familiar ring. He did not struggle as he was locked in
place, but he did not assist his jailer either. He hung like a
corpse, unconcerned with the pain it caused his shoulders and
wrists.

A high-pitched twitter a few minutes
later identified the arrival of Emperor Nabim. Hearing the nasal
laugh, Jaret opened his bleary eyes and stared at the little man in
his silks and jewels and the black shrouded monster that stood
behind him.

“
Your creature has done
well,” the Emperor complimented. “I do not think I have ever seen a
man so thoroughly shattered. Given that it is the
grand Jaret Rammeriz
, it
is absolutely remarkable. Two weeks ago, I would not have thought
it possible, but you have done it. He is a shell.”

Somewhere beneath the deep cowl, an
effeminate voice responded. “Thank you, my lord. The Curava Deilei
Tuhar’za have not been allowed to use their skills in generations,
but they have obviously not forgotten their purpose.” Jaret stared
at the black cave of a hood but saw no evidence of the man that
occupied it.

“
So
Traitor Rammeriz,
do you now see
what happens to those who tamper with the Order?” Nabim asked,
bringing Jaret from his contemplation. He strode across the cell
and lowered his face to glower at his captive. “Did you really
think that the Holy Order would not punish you for your baseless
ambition? Now you know what torture awaits those who outstretch
their bounds, those who do not listen to their betters, those who
do not know their place. Soon everyone will know. They will learn
from your example, and they will obey. For fear of being punished
the way that you have been punished, Jaret Rammeriz, they will
obey.” Nabim clasped Jaret’s chin and smashed it in his fingers as
he ranted, voice rising in volume and pitch with each word until he
was screaming. The fluttering of his robes and clank of his jewelry
formed a chorus to accompany the spittle that rained on Jaret's
bald head and face.

When his tirade had run its course,
Nabim slammed Jaret’s head into the wall then stood, straightened
his clothes, and cleared his throat to show that he was calm. “So
Jaret, as you have probably guessed, we have come to rehearse for
your trial. Tomorrow you will appear in the Hall of Judgment before
the Xi Valati, the Imperial Council, and all the lords of the
Empire. I will present your case personally.” Nabim puffed himself
up as he spoke, obviously proud of having orchestrated such a
spectacle.

“
Now, the worst possible
outcome is that in your prideful insolence you will somehow ruin my
preparation by saying something you should not. Which, my dear
friend, is why we must ensure that the few words you say are the
correct ones.”

Nabim sat smoothly in a huge chair
that had been carried into the room, folding his robes around him
as he came to rest. His henchman stood behind him, though his
slight height meant that his head just did show above Nabim’s
shoulder. His head was tilted toward his shoes. His robe could have
been held up by a pole for all that Jaret could see of the man
beneath. Relishing the silence, Nabim adjusted his robes as if
Jaret did not exist. When he finally brought his head up, he seemed
surprised to see Jaret staring wide-eyed back at him.

“
As I was saying.” Nabim
flashed a belittling smile, obviously amused by the spectacle. “You
can tell me anything right now and do something different tomorrow,
but we have to be certain that won’t happen. That is why I have had
that . . . that creature visit you. Now, if you do as you are told,
I will find someone else to keep Yuelle’s pet entertained. If you
do not, however, do as you are told, I can give you to that thing
and is brethren to play with for the remainder of your pathetic
little life, and I am told that they can make that life go on for
quite some time.” To emphasize his words, Thagas'kiula stepped out
of the hall and took a position on Nabim’s other side.

The sight of the monster sent Jaret
back into the wall with his eyes squeezed shut. He squirmed in his
bonds unable to control the infantile fear that the very sight of
the thing created in him. He was powerless against that fear,
broken more thoroughly than any man had ever been.

Nabim and Thagas'kiula laughed,
Nabim’s nasal twitter mingling with the creature’s hissing cackle
in a hideous chorus of derision. Curled into the wall as tightly as
he could manage with his hands chained above him, oblivious to the
way he was twisting his elbows and pulling his shoulders, Jaret
began to cry. The laugh was always followed by the bite. He waited
for it, waited for the terrible pain, crying softly and mumbling
prayers to any god that might be merciful enough to
listen.

“
Are you crying?” Nabim
screamed. He held up his hand to stop the laughter and closed on
Jaret. “Open your eyes!” he screamed again. “What is this
groveling? He can’t even stop. And he has wet himself. He is no
better than a beaten dog. I cannot take this to the people. They
will not believe that this is the great Jaret Rammeriz. They will
not believe that this is the monster that has destroyed the
Empire.” Nabim turned and paced around the cell, yelling. “This
will never do. Yuelle, you and this mindless beast have ruined
everything. I have worked so hard to make it perfect, and you have
ruined it.”

Nabim ran out of words, but his
huffing made it clear that his anger was far from extinguished. “My
lord, do not concern yourself,” the wizard said. He moved to
comfort Nabim, placing his skeletal hands on the Emperor’s
shoulders. “Perhaps we underestimated Thagas'kiula’s enthusiasm. I
warned you that it has been generations since his kind had been
used for this purpose. But this is not an obstacle that we cannot
overcome. If you will calm yourself, I will see what I can do to
restore our fine general.”

Nabim flopped onto the chair in a
great flutter of robes, and Jaret heard the shuffling steps of the
wizard. The man closed within inches of him before placing an
ice-cold hand on his face. The wizard brought his face around to
stare into his black cowl. Jaret could just find the outline of
sharp features, the movement of thin lips, and the sparkle of black
eyes as the wizard mumbled strange words below his breath. When he
stopped, a bolt of power arched through Jaret’s body. He convulsed
then fell limp in his chains.

As the power departed, he felt his
pain leaving, his fear retreating, and his shattered nerves
rebuilding. It was like a wall had been erected in his mind to
separate him from the pain and fear that had been overwhelming him
moments before. Those emotions were still there, but he was
separated from them, protected from their crippling effects. Yet it
was more than that. He tried to find his anger but it was out of
his reach, hidden behind that same wall. He searched for other
emotions – joy, anticipation, sorrow, doubt, frustration – called
up memories that he knew would insight them, but he felt nothing.
No matter what he did, no matter what he thought, where he looked,
he felt only indifference. Even the inability to find his emotions
was a curiosity. He shook his head but bemusement was the strongest
emotion he could manage for the fact that he had just lost his
ability to feel. With that calm, he looked up with clear eyes just
in time to see Thagas'kiula’s back as it strode from the
room.

“
What did you do to him?”
Nabim gawked, sounding like a child who had seen a juggler perform
a clever trick. “He looks like the stick-up-his-ass Jaret I have
always hated.”

“
I blocked Hilaal’s gift
from him.” The wizard was matter-of-fact. “Emotions are a one of
Hilaal’s gifts, and I am able to suppress them just as I am able to
use the power they create. There are risks and such is best left to
the Caliele, but it should not matter now.”

Jaret did not understand much of what
the wizard had said, but neither did Nabim from his bewildered
expression. He looked like he wanted to ask a question but shook it
off. “But is he still broken?” he asked pointedly. “Will he still
do as he is told?”

The wizard sighed like a parent
mustering his patience when dealing with a difficult child. “Why
don’t you try him and see? I think you will be quite
satisfied.”

Nabim huffed. “We shall see. As long
as you do not fail me again. Next time, I may not be so forgiving.”
The wizard lifted his head at the hollow threat just enough for
Jaret to see his smirk. That smirk left no doubt as to who was the
puppet and who the master.

Nabim turned on Jaret with a frown. He
brought a perfumed scarf to his nose. “By the Order, he smells of
urine now. You will have him cleaned before the trial, won’t
you?”

“
Aye, my Empr’er, we’ll
git ‘im all nice an’ clean fir ya,” the big guard
answered.

The Emperor nodded without ever
acknowledging the guard. “Well, let’s be quick about this then. The
smell is dreadful. Where was I? Oh, yes. As I was saying, Jaret, if
you do not do as I require, all the fear and pain you were just
relieved of will come back on you tenfold, and that thing will suck
on your flesh morning, noon, and night. Do you understand
me?”

With the allusion to Thagas'kiula, a
flash of fear escaped the veil. Jaret quivered as an image of the
creature passed before his mind’s eye, but the veil strengthened
and blocked the emotion as quickly as it had come. He could feel
his fear pushing at that barrier, but it just became stronger and
stronger until the fear was barely perceptible in the locked off
corners of his mind. “Yes,” he finally croaked. He had screamed
himself out of voice an hour before, but the pathetic attempt made
Nabim giddy with pleasure.

“
This is perfect!” he
giggled. “I will not have to worry about this headstrong fool
boggling my plans. He won’t be able to defend himself even if he
tries.”

“
My lord, we do have other
business this evening.” The wizard broke Nabim’s humor with a
tight, but honey-sweet, voice. “We should finish this and move on.
We have already spent more time than we had intended.”

“
You are quite right,
Yuelle. It just amazes me how the Order has aligned the world to
meet my needs. Truly, I am destined to be the greatest emperor in
history.”

“
I am certain that is
true, my lord, but can we please be done with this?”

“
Yes, yes.” Nabim
fluttered a hand at his advisor. The wizard’s frown was visible
even through the cowl. “Now, Jaret, tomorrow I will ask you only
one question. I expect you to have saved up all night to give a
clear, strong answer. It is really a very simple question with a
very simple answer, but it is vitally important that you get it
right. Do you understand?”

Jaret could only nod in response. He
knew that his voice would be strong the next day – it always was
when Thagas'kiula made his morning visit.

The nod seemed sufficient for Nabim.
“The question is this: Jaret Rammeriz, you have been accused of
high treason against the Empire, gross mismanagement of the people
resources, squandering the Empire’s wealth for your own gain, and
most gravely of all, of worshiping chaos and seeking to sow its
seeds throughout the world. How do you answer these charges?” Nabim
looked Jaret in the eye. “Now, traitor Rammeriz, how will you
answer that question?”

Guilty, guilty,
guilty
, Jaret’s mind screamed. He knew
that was what Nabim wanted to hear and did not have any
reservations about saying it. Despite the calm he had been given,
he was still every bit as broken as he had been five minutes
before, and he wanted more than anything to satisfy Nabim. He tried
to say the word. Concentrated on forming it. . . .
“
Not
guilty,” he
mouthed unable to repress the unseen will that moved his
lips.

Jaret expected to see Nabim erupt, but
the Emperor threw his hands in the air in celebration. “I always
knew that you were strong, Jaret, but I never knew you were that
strong and that smart. That is exactly what you will say. You will
say ‘not guilty.’ You will say it in as loud and proud a voice as
you can muster. Then you will continue to look proud as dozens of
witnesses are called, days and days of witnesses, to prove that you
are more guilty than could ever be expressed by you or I. Finally,
when all the witnesses have given their testimony, when you have
seen your closest friends and confidants turn against you, when the
entire world has come to see the side of you that only I can
portray, only then will I lay down your punishment.