Chains. So, it was chains again. It had been over two decades since he was last in chains, since before the war, if he remembered rightly. When he was young, before Yulian had seen the potential in him, had taken him out of the labour camps, conscripted him into the royal army. But here he was again, where he belonged, he supposed.

They had trekked south out of Brunholm, always south, over the windswept hills and expansive plains of the middle lands, towards Whitehall, where Auric and the other prisoner would presumably receive their judgement.

He found he didn't think on it much, being judged. He had judged himself long ago, after all, and there was no question of his guilt. It was freeing, ironically, having his freedom taken away. Now he didn't have to worry about what the next day would bring, what new regrets, what new nightmares would pop up in the dead of night. Mostly, what he couldn't take his mind off was the way the girl, Liandra, had touched Mouse, and how he had just gotten better afterwards. The girl's mother had been quick to change the subject, to deflect attention away, but it was clear there was more to the girl than met the eye. There was something unnatural about her.

By sundown, Auric's stomach was grinding like a bag of rocks. He tried to ignore it the best he could, focused on the clear smell of the air, the gentle breeze washing over the long grass. They made camp in a little wood, a few hundred strides off the road, where they set a fire and put on a pot of water for stew. Auric ate heartily. No sense in letting food go to waste, guilt be damned.

After dinner, the captain lashed the prisoners around a thick oak, left them to sleep with their backs against either side of the trunk. Once the captain had left earshot, the other prisoner spoke up.

'My name's Stroud, by the way,' he said. He had the thick accent of a northerner. Auric couldn't help but think it suited his bullish physique perfectly.

'I don't care what your name is. Don't rightly care what you have to say, either.'

Stroud scoffed. 'Well, that's fine. But that won't stop me from saying it, and it won't stop your ears from hearin' it. You can call me fuckhead if it makes you feel any better. I wouldn't give a damn. But what I do give a damn about is getting out of these chains.' Stroud gave the chains a little tug. They tightened about Auric's chest.

Auric ignored him, tilted his head up, watched the speckling of leaves move back and forth in front of the stars.

'Did you hear me?' Stroud said, leaning around the base of the tree as best he could.

'Aye, I heard ya. But I'm not helping you escape.'

'In case you haven't noticed,' Stroud said, his voice rising ever so slightly, 'we're in this together. If one of us escapes, both of us escape.'

'No,' Auric said, his voice flat. 'If I escape, I'm leaving you behind. Not that I plan on escaping, anyway.'

'Eh? You just gonna let them march you to a hangin'? Or you think they'll just let you go? Didn't I hear them say you were responsible for the deaths of thousands?'

Auric took a long breath, listened to the sound of the woods, the rustling leaves, birds twittering in their nests. 'I suppose so. I deserve death for what I've done.'

'That's grand for you, but I don't'

'Why not? What did you do?'

Stroud sighed from the other side of the tree. 'It doesn't matter what I did.'

'It does if I'm deciding whether you're worthy of living or not.'

Stroud was silent for a breath. 'If I tell you what I did, you won't help me escape.'

Auric grinned in the dark. 'That bad, huh?'

'It's…complicated.'

'Try me.'

'I killed some people, okay.'

'That's not complicated. You deserve to die.'

Stroud's voice took on a note of exasperation. 'What's it like, living in a faerie world of black and white morality? Cause for us adults, things aren't so simple. Sometimes, good people kill bad people. Isn't that the whole point of an execution?'

'Is that what you did, is it? Kill bad people?'

'As a matter of fact, yes. The people I killed were bad people, very bad, the kind of people who hurt children for their own pleasure. Only, my rotten luck was that the people I killed happened to be distant relatives of the imperial family. I didn't find that part out until it was too late. Hence, the price on my head.'

Auric ran his tongue over his teeth, sucked at them, contemplating. 'The real question is, would you still have done it if you'd known?'

There was a long pause, then a sigh. 'Probably.'

'Hmm. Well, if I believed your story, and I'm not saying I do, it would change things.'

'So you'll help me?'

Auric took his own pause. 'Maybe. Not sure how I'd manage that, anyway. It's not like I've got a spare key.'

Stroud leaned around the tree farther, lowered his voice. 'The way I look at it, with the two of us, if we pick our moment right, we should be able to overwhelm those two young idiots. I thought about trying it myself a few times, but now that it's you and me, I think we might be able to do something. Sounds like you can handle yourself in a fight.'

Auric considered that. 'Once upon a time, maybe.'

'I'd wager you still got the fire in ya. You don't have the look of a man who puts down the sword and just forgets how to use it. Ever have days when it just feels like your hand's missing something?'

Indeed, Auric had many days like that, though recently, it was more often the lack of a bottle that made his hand feel empty, rather than a sword grip. He worked his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He was quiet for a good while.

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'You still with me, old man?' Stroud mumbled.

Auric pressed his head against the trunk of the tree, wiggled his back, tried to get himself somewhat comfortable. 'You make your decisions. Maybe I'll help you, maybe I won't. Can't say I know which way it'll go myself.'

'Well, that's hardly reassuring,' Stroud scoffed.

Auric shrugged, despite the darkness. 'You're a prisoner. I would've thought you'd take what you can get.'

*

The next day, Auric woke with a bend in his spine and a crick in his neck. It took nearly an hour of walking before he managed to work the stiffness out. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Stroud, then, but not enough to believe his story. He had seen men face down their demise before, in the war, and before when he was a boy trying to survive on the street. In his experience, most would say anything they could, would tell you the sky was green, if they thought it would save them. Perhaps Stroud was the true exception, but in life, you had to play the odds. Sad to think they fell on the side of the liars.

The day wore on, grey and imposing, until the road took a turn to the west, and wound into spiny hills scattered with mossy boulders. They trekked upwards, the pebbled road crunching underfoot. Most of the travellers spoke little. The woman—Liandra's mother, Alessa—seemed suspicious of Auric and the others, perhaps not the bumbling priest so much, and she seemed to have some connection with the captain. Of course, she had to be suspicious. Times were, it was hard travelling with children before the war. Now that there was such unrest, people constantly on the move looking to make an easy profit, soldiers everywhere, Auric had to imagine travelling with a young girl was a test of anyone's nerve.

Near midday, they came into a steep ravine. High, crumbling walls of jagged, brown rock rose on either side of them, and stretched ahead for hundreds of paces. As they walked, the priest hummed a repetitive tune, a hymn, presumably. Auric hadn't been able to make much of the man, with his balding head and his beady, darting, yet unseeing eyes. He suspected there wasn't much to make in the first place.

'Would you kindly shut the fuck up?' Stroud said, after perhaps an hour of Fairwell's obnoxious humming.

'Cut that out,' the captain said. He turned and shoved Stroud in the shoulder.

Everyone stopped, turned to the commotion, Fairwell last of all, with a look like he had just awoken from the deepest sleep of his life.

He raised his eyebrows, put a finger to his chest. 'I'm sorry. Do you mean me?' the priest said in his mousy, little voice.

'Of course, I mean you. If you don't stop humming, I'm gonna find a way to hang myself with these chains.' Stroud rattled the length of chain between him and the captain.

'Like hell, you will,' the captain said. 'I mean to see you judged first. And you're worth more to us alive.'

'Does it not drive you mad?' Stroud shook his head at the captain, looked to the others. 'Does it not drive all of you mad, his incessant noises, his head flapping about like a bird?'

Fairwell's brow creased, and he looked about at the others, frowning. Indeed, his head did move like a bird's. Why that would bother anyone, Auric had no clue. But then again, he wasn't sure it did exactly bother Stroud.

'No one cares,' the captain continued. 'Now shut your hole before I have to shove a sock in it. Again.'

'What, this sock?' And Stroud hooked the heel of his boot against the toe of the other and pulled his foot out, waved around a well-worn, thinly stretched sock.

Now, Auric was sure Stroud didn't give a damn about the priest's humming.

The captain shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. 'There's something wrong with you. I should make you walk on that sock, if it wouldn't slow us down so much. Beecham, help him get his boot back on.'

The soldier with the cleft chin ambled up to Stroud, bent down and grabbed the big man's boot.

Auric shot Stroud a look, shook his head, near imperceptible. Stroud looked back, stretched his neck out, one way then the other, gave the barest hint of a grin. He let Beecham put his foot back in the boot and tighten the laces. Soon as he did, Stroud tugged on the chain, twisted his body, pulling with all the weight the big man had behind him. The captain lifted off his feet, shot down towards the ground, lost his grip on the chain. Auric was nearly thrown down himself, but he adjusted his footing, moved with Stroud, as best he could.

Beecham barely had enough time to blink before the chain was around his neck and Stroud had him on his feet, had him locked in his big arms like a shield. Stroud stepped away from the others, and Auric had no choice but to follow.

Slow realisation dawned on the others. Their faces turned to shock. McJames drew his sword, had the tip pointed towards Beecham and Stroud, that bloody rag still jammed up his nose.

'Get me the fucking key now, or this boy gets strangled,' Stroud said through gritted teeth.

The captain got up from the ground, brushed dirt off his uniform, held his hands out for calm from the others. Liandra and her mother backed away to the other side of the ravine. The girl's mouth hung open, quivering. Her eyes brimmed with tears. The priest seemed more interested in the top of the ravine than what was going on in the bottom of it.

The captain stared at Stroud for half a dozen heartbeats, his jaw set. 'Then what?' he said.

'Fuck you,' spat Stroud. 'I don't deserve to die. Get me that fucking key.'

Auric simply went with the tide, not that he had much choice in the matter, helping neither side, impartial. It felt good to be impartial for once. No choices, no responsibility.

'Move out the way, Beecham,' said McJames, the tip of his dull-grey sword wavering about. 'I'll stick him.'

'Put that thing down, before you hurt yourself,' the captain said.

'I can get him.'

The captain reached out, slapped the sword from McJames's hand. It fell to the ground, steel ringing.

'You're not doing nothing,' the captain shouted, pointing a finger at McJames, 'and you,' he moved the finger to Stroud, 'are going to Whitehall, where you'll be tried for your crimes, I'll get paid, and you'll get executed.'

Stroud grimaced. His teeth ground together. This didn't seem to be going the way he had hoped. He jerked the chains around Beecham's neck. The young soldier let out a strangled yelp. 'I'm not fucking kidding. I'll strangle this lad.'

The captain took a step forward, spoke slowly. 'And then what? You and the war criminal gonna run off, all chained together like? Doubt you could outrun me and McJames. Doubt your friend there even wants to run.' The captain nodded towards Auric, took another step forward. 'You're a big man, Stroud, strong man, no one denies that. But you're not one for thinking, are ya?' The captain tapped rapidly at his head. 'C'mon, let the boy go before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.'

Now Stroud was positively seething. The captain wasn't wrong, and the big prisoner was starting to realise it. If he strangled Beecham, he would lose the only leverage he had. If he didn't strangle Beecham, well then he wasn't going anywhere except straight to the noose.

'Fuck,' Stroud shouted, his voice echoing through the ravine. But he didn't let Beecham go.

The captain looked towards the sky for a moment. 'Strangle him or not, I really don't care. But make a choice. We're losing light.'

Stroud stood there, frozen in indecision. He shot a glance at Auric. 'We're in this together.'

Auric shrugged. 'There's nothing I can do.'

A cloud passed in front of the sun, and the light at the bottom of the ravine dimmed. A chill wind passed through. Auric shivered, looked down at his hands. The shakes again.

'There's something up there,' Fairwell muttered.

'Keep him quiet, Alessa,' the Captain muttered over his shoulder.

'But something moved up there.' The father still had his eyes turned to the top of the ravine.

Liandra let out a piercing scream as the darkness deepened, now deeper than any darkness from a passing cloud, darker than it should have been for the time of day. Auric looked up to the lip of the ravine. Something akin to a shadow flickered across his vision, little more than a blur. It sent a chill down his spine. He looked down at McJames's sword, still on the ground.

'What are you doing?' Stroud said, turning his eye to Liandra. 'Shut that witch up, right now.'

Auric didn't think Liandra was doing anything. Alessa had her in her arms, was trying to quiet her.

'No,' Alessa murmured. She looked up at the captain, her eyes watery. 'He wouldn't.'

The captain flicked his gaze over to the woman, then back to Stroud. It was becoming hard to see in the deepening gloom. 'What's happening Alessa? Tell me what this is.'

Liandra's scream settled to a whimper. Alessa cradled her head in her arms. 'He wouldn't,' she said again, defeat in her voice.

'Who? Who wouldn't?'

Alessa looked at the captain. Tears spilled down her cheeks. 'Vallendred. He found us.'