The Hollow: At The Edge (38 page)

“No, Ma’am. Just a few
broken bones.”

Serrel thought Dillaini
seemed almost... disappointed at that.

“Go on then,” she said.
“I would like for you to explain to all of us what happened.
Because I remember giving orders to Jurgen and Snow that they were
not,
were not
, under any circumstance meant to go looking
for Vharaes on their own. So why exactly did you fools do precisely
that.”

“I take full
responsibility for that, General,” said Victor. “I was following
orders.”

“Whose orders? Not
mine, that’s for damn sure.”

“Captain Jurgen,
General, Ma’am. His last orders before his death were for us to
take out Vharaes. I could not disobey an order given to me by my
superior.”

“You could have, since
your superior was dead at the time.”

Victor’s mouth twitched
slightly. “Orders given in front of witnesses, General, Ma’am. I
would have been in dereliction of duty.”

Dillaini sniffed. “If
Jurgen were alive. You can bet that he would be facing a court
martial. And you would be right up there with him. His dying is a
stroke of luck for everyone.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Victor
said blankly.

“Here’s what you are
going to do. You are going to tell me everything that happened
during the mission this morning. From the moment you arrived in
Vollumir, to when you were found by Legion soldiers in the
fortress. Leave nothing out. If I ask you to elaborate on
something, you will tell me everything down to the most minute
detail. Now, speak.”

Serrel exchanged a look
with Victor, then started speaking. He did as she asked, and told
her everything he could remember of the mission, which had only
been half a day ago, but felt like longer. Victor took over when he
needed to, but mostly it was Serrel who talked.

Most of the story,
Dillaini had already heard from the others present, the surviving
Hounds, Snow, Caellix and Annabella. But she and her two generals
were most interested in their meeting with Vharaes, and the
subsequent fight. When he finally told them of their meeting with
the creature Narak, Grimm nearly fell off his seat.

“Really?” he said.
“Most fascinating. Did it have any-”

“Grimm!” Dillaini
snapped. “Later.” She turned back to Serrel. “So this creature...
it destroyed Vharaes’ body completely.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Isn’t that
convenient.”

Serrel did frown this
time. “Not really, Ma’am. It means we don’t have any proof he is
really dead.”

“And no proof of your
story either, which I’m sure you agree is remarkably outlandish.
You expect us to believe this?”

Victor stared at her.
“It’s the truth.”

“Didn’t anyone find the
remains on the top of the tower?” Serrel asked.

“A charred and
unrecognisable skeleton. It’s hardly proof of anything. You are the
only ones who saw this creature.”

“I wouldn’t lie about
that, Ma’am.”

Dillaini sniffed again.
“This bag that Vharaes had, that your fantastic monster took from
you. What was in it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t
know, Ma’am.”

“It didn’t occur to you
to look?”

“I would have, but I
had other things on my mind at the time. Ma’am,” he added at the
last minute. What was this?

“Like trying not to go
up in flames,” put in Victor.

“And aren’t we all
grateful that you survived so unscathed,” said Dillaini.

“All of the papers and
books he was sorting through might still be in the room we found
him in,” remembered Serrel. “The chamber just off the throne room.
What’s left of them might still be in there.”

“We have people looking
over it all. It’s a mess in there,” she added accusingly. “Now tell
me, what did this Vharaes look like?”

Serrel told her, “Like
an elf. Tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Oh, and he had a tattoo on his
hand.”

Dillaini stiffened.
“You saw this?”

“Yes. It was just
like...” He paused. “All right, I know I probably shouldn’t admit
to knowing this, but it was like the tattoo that the Nightblades
use. The one that lets them weave without a staff. Victor has
one.”

He looked to Victor, to
get him to show them what he was talking about, but found Victor
staring straight at him.

“The Scar of Redan,”
Roth said.

“He had one of those?”
said Grimm, stroking his beard in thought. “Now that is very
interesting.”

“Are you sure about
this?” asked Dillaini.

“Yes, Ma’am. I got a
good look while he was trying to set us on fire,” replied
Serrel.

Dillaini stared at him,
and not in a way that made him feel that she was going to
congratulate him on a job well done.

“Very well,” she said
finally. “Here’s what we’ll do. Neither of you is to discuss
anything that was said in here today. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” they said
together.

“Good. I believe there
will be a promotion, as soon as Grimm finalises the paperwork, and
you will both be awarded the Silver Imperial Star for services to
Her Imperial Majesty. The ceremony will take place when we return
to the Empire. My sister will no doubt wish to do the honours.”

“I don’t think that
will be necessary, Ma’am,” said Serrel modestly. “We were just
doing what we were suppose to do. We were following orders.”

“This isn’t for your
benefit,” Dillaini told him coldly. “But the Legion needs heroes,
someone to show them why we fight. So whether you feel deserving or
not, you are going to grin and bear it, Caster.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Serrel
said quickly.

“Do not tell anyone
about what we’ve discussed,” Dillaini repeated. “Now, you can go be
heroes. Tell everyone how proud you are to be commended by the
Empress herself. Dismissed.”

They didn’t need to be
told twice. Serrel snapped off a brief salute, and left the room
very quickly.

As soon as the door
closed behind them, Serrel turned to Victor. “Wasn’t that-”

“Not here,” Victor
pointed his head at the door.

Serrel nodded in
understanding. They made to walk down the corridor and out of
earshot, but Serrel found Dhulrael waiting near his office for his
own audience with the generals.

“Caster Hawthorne!”
Dhulrael said happily. “Caster Blackwood! How very good it is to
see you both again.”

“You too, Sir,” said
Serrel politely. “How are you?”

“I am fine. More than
fine. Please, you do not have to call me sir. Not after all you
have done. I should be calling you that.”

“I don’t think that
would be necessary,” put in Victor.

“I mean it. If it were
not for your actions, who knows what may have happened. You have
saved my city, my home, and protected this land from Vharaes
forever. Really, truly, I will forever be in your debt.”

“It’s all right,
really,” said Serrel. “We just did what we had to do. So what are
you doing now?”

“Trying to get some
semblance of order back into my city. There is much to be rebuilt,
and trade must be restarted. Thanks to the Legion, I will not be
short of manpower.”

Serrel looked back at
the door to the office. “Can I talk to you about something?
Somewhere private?”

“Of course. This
way.”

Dhulrael led them to a
quiet corner of the fortress.

“There’s something I
think I should tell you,” Serrel started, realising he was
technically disobeying an order.

“What is it?”

Serrel told him about
Narak, and about what it had said, and what it had done. Dhulrael
listened with increasing amazement.

“This is the creature
that was responsible for all our hardships?” said Dhulrael.

“Any ideas about what
it is?”

“I am afraid not. I
have never heard of such a thing.”

“Whatever it was, it’s
dangerous, and we can’t let it wonder around. Otherwise, all this
could start all over again. I’m not sure if the generals even
believed me.”

“I do. And I will do
whatever is in my power to help the Legion stop this creature.”

“I just thought you
ought to know,” said Serrel. “Uh, but if anyone asks, you didn’t
hear it from me.”

“I shall be discreet.
And I did mean it. Anything that you require, anything at all,
please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Dhulrael.” He
shook the elf’s offered hand. “Take care of yourself.”

“You as well, Caster.
You as well.”

As they walked out of
the fortress, Serrel couldn’t help but notice how silent Victor
was. More so than usual.

“That was weird,” he
said conversationally. “I mean, was it just me, or did the General
seem less than thrilled about what we told her.”

“Yes,” said Victor
blankly.

“For a second I thought
she seemed almost... angry at us.”

Victor was silent.

“What is it?” Serrel
asked.

Victor stopped, wearing
an unsure expression. He looked around, as if to check no one was
listening to them.

“That tattoo you said
Vharaes had...” he started slowly. “You’re sure about that?”

“Quite sure...” Serrel
said with growing confusion.

“You’re sure that it
looked like mine?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see
it?”

“I was too busy trying
not to get my head cut off, not checking him for distinguishing
marks. Listen, Serrel, this is important... I think.”

Confusion was turning
to worry. Victor was never like this. “Are you sure you’re all
right? Maybe we should go back to the infirmary-”

“That tattoo,” Victor
interrupted. “It’s called the Scar of Redan. It isn’t an elfish
design. It’s Imperial, designed by one of our own assassins.”

“So? Maybe he-”

“I told you before,
it’s a secret design, Serrel. You can’t just get it out of a book.
Especially not in the bloody Faelands.”

“So how come he
had-”

“Exactly!” Victor’s
voice rose in triumph. “There’s no way he should have had that
tattoo.”

“Maybe someone stole it
from us,” Serrel said as reasonably as he could. “Maybe someone on
our side sold it to them. Who knows?”

“Maybe,” Victor was
unconvinced.

“Come on, Victor, what
is this really about?”

“I don’t know!” Victor
snapped a little too loudly. “There’s something not right about
this.”

“There is a lot wrong
with all of this,” said Serrel. “But... Look, we’re just soldiers.
This isn’t our responsibility.”

“Not our
responsibility,” echoed Victor. He shook his head. “Something’s
going on, Serrel. Are you really just going to go along with it
like a good little soldier?”

That reminded Serrel
too much of the conversation he had with Morton.

“Gods, Victor, you’re
talking about the General!” Serrel snapped. “The leader of the
Legion. So what if she’s up to something? It’s her job, not ours.
We just follow orders. Besides, what difference does it make to
you? When have you cared about anything? You bring indifference to
an art form. Just yesterday you stormed an enemy stronghold just
because someone told you to.”

“And rather a lot
happened in the meantime.” Victor forced himself to take a breath,
and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look... When I was younger, I
use to have a recurring nightmare about falling from the sky. I
would fall and fall, and there was nothing but this huge open space
all around me and the ground rushing up, and it would scare the
living shit out of me. And yesterday on that tower, that nightmare
nearly came true.
Twice
. And now...” He groaned and shook
his head.

Serrel had never seen
him look so... defeated.

“I’ve never been afraid
of dying,” Victor said slowly, more discomposed than he had ever
been in his life. “You live, you die. You accept that quickly at
Blackwood. But out there on the edge of that tower... I just...
Gods, I don’t know! I just didn’t want to fall. I didn’t want to
die. I was... afraid.” He hesitated. “I was afraid, Serrel.”

Serrel didn’t know what
to say. This was Victor talking. Anyone else, he would have at
least patted them on the shoulder and said, “There there.” Normally
with Victor, that might have lost you a perfectly good hand.

“I can’t say that I’m
the expert of this,” Serrel said slowly. “But from what I’ve had to
go through... Fear is a good thing. It keeps you thinking. It keeps
you living. Fear’s kept me alive these last few days.”

“Why did you come with
me then?” Victor asked. “You could have died, going up against
Vharaes. If you were afraid...?”

“I was afraid of what
would happen to you, if you went running in there like an idiot
without help. I was afraid of what would happen to everyone, our
friends, the Hounds, if I didn’t stop Vharaes whilst I had the
chance. There was a lot worse to worry about than just dying.
Also,” he added. “I was rather pissed off at Vharaes. After
everything that happened.”

Victor sighed and
started walking again. “So you were prepared to die for that? To
save everyone? Well, that’s the thing, Serrel. What if everyone is
in danger in the first place for some stupid reason we don’t even
know?”

“Like I said, there
isn’t anything we can do about it. We have to take care of each
other, watch each other’s backs, and make sure we all come out of
this in one piece. You can do that right?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all that
matters. Whatever the reasons, whatever General Dillaini isn’t
telling anyone... That doesn’t matter. Staying alive matters.” He
paused. “Gods, I’m starting to sound like you.”

“I noticed. You’ve
changed.”

“I know,” Serrel
admitted. “So have you. Speaking of which, good luck with
Kaitlin.”

“Thanks.”

“And I realise I said I
had your back, but there’s no way I’m getting involved with that.
You’re on your own.”

“Well, thanks a lot,
Serrel.”