Captain Sargasso paced back and forth in the keep’s grand hall. Despite the fact he was in a place of great honor and prestige in Paxia, he was radiating anxiety waiting to be called in before Gaius, the Lord Commander of the Swords. The walls were lined with tapestries that illustrated the heroism of the Swords of old. The captain was before a scene of a previous Drake crushing the enemy at the Battle of Red Hill. The delicate embroidery depicted the blood-soaked battlefield with the God of Shadow himself standing in the center atop the carnage.
Given the predicament he was in, the decoration seemed almost mocking. The king of the darkness had bloody drowned! That was the only conclusion he and his men could come to. They had searched the damned countryside for weeks and found nothing—no trace of the stupid bastard. No matter how many villages he burned, Drake wouldn’t be smoked out. While frantically searching, he had thought of and discarded lie after lie of what to tell Gaius. The thought of telling the Lord Commander the truth turned his blood to cold mud in his veins.
Sargasso was in charge of keeping a mighty Sword in line. Although the Lord Commander was no longer a Sword, it was said that on the battlefield, he was unparalleled. That he could cut down legions with the wave of his hand. What was worse was that the rumors were true. The captain had the privilege to see Gaius in action before he had become the Lord Commander some years back.
Sargasso hadn’t been a captain then, only a knight in the Calvary. His unit had been instructed to play cleanup behind Gaius. Literally, they were to pick up anything of value from the dead and bring it back to the kingdom. It was a lowly job for a knight, but better than being on the other side of the blade. The things that man could do with just his fingers were ghastly.
The way his tattoos drank in the blood was something else entirely. Sargasso’s charge had similar markings, but the patron gods were different. He supposed the rules changed depending on the deity the mages chained you to. None of it made much sense to him. Drake may have been able to turn the sky black, but Sargasso would never forget how Gaius made the sky bleed. It was a vision that haunted him. Gaius was born into this world simply to do violence.
“Captain, the Lord Commander will see you now,” the attendant informed the Captain.
Sargasso swallowed hard and followed the clerk down the hall. The giant man tried to amass his full stature but felt very small walking toward the Lord Commander’s chamber. There was a very present danger that Gaius would kill him on the spot for his failure. He had certainly seen him kill men for far more minor blunders. The captain’s fate would depend entirely on the Lord Commander’s mood.
The attendant pushed open a set of iron doors to reveal a brightly lit chamber. Gaius sat lazily in a high-backed wooden chair. Before him lay a long table with intricate maps and miniatures of the realm. Gaius held a toy soldier between strong fingers, rolling it from knuckle to knuckle. His face was grim as he stared down at the maps and models before him. He did not appear to like what he saw.
Seated next to him was his little sorceress, Dorro. Her hands fixed tightly around a black orb with luminous specks of red swirling inside. She appeared to be staring off into space or perhaps through it. Seeing things only she was privy to. Her milky white eyes unnerved the captain. He had heard she could speak to the dead. It was said in hushed whispers that she could even raise them and make them move like puppets. The woman scared the seven hells out of him.
The captain walked along the edge of the table until he was beside the Lord Commander. Sargasso saluted and bowed deeply before his superior.
“My Lord…” Sargasso was cut off.
“Captain, you have kept me waiting weeks,” the tone was bored and icy. He did not look away from his maps. This audience was clearly beneath him.
“Apologies, Lord Commander, the Epesians mounted another attack, which slowed us considerably,” he lied.
“Why did Drake not slaughter them like the animals they are?” irritation crept into his words.
“Well, sir, you see...” Sargasso swallowed hard. “Drake fell after the battle, Lord Commander.”
“How, pray tell?”
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“He took his own life in the river, sir.” It was a version of the truth.
A thin, hungry smile cut across the Lord Commander’s face. “Did he now? Surely you have brought me his corpse then?” he asked incredulously.
“No, we were unable to secure a body.” Sweat was beginning to drip down the captain's face. He wished he had his helmet on to cover him. He felt naked without it.
The Lord Commander stopped flipping the toy. “Then he is not dead,” he said, speaking as if he were instructing a child.
“Commander?” Sargasso was worried his sweat would begin to drip from him.
“You have been played for the fool you are, Captain,” Gaius said, standing from his seat. The Lord Commander slowly stalked over to Sargasso. “Drake escaped.” It was not a question. “You had but one job to keep that fool in line. You were trusted with such mighty tools to accomplish this, yet you failed.” Gaius pressed his fingers together, and the toy sliced neatly in half before falling to the floor.
“In less than a year,” Gaius pointed at the maps and models, “we are to invade Epesia, as the King wills." The Lord Commander waved his hand in irritation. “In order to achieve this, I will need all of the Swords accounted for, but I especially need that shadowy idiot on the front. You let him escape. If I know the fool, he has no doubt found some whore to play house with. I doubt he made it far from where you lost him. He probably stayed in the first bed that took him in.”
Gaius put his hand on Sargasso’s breastplate. “I can feel your heart beating through your armor. You’re scared, " Gaius said. " That will make this next part easier,” Gaius patted the captain’s chest and withdrew his hand. Sargasso’s breath was heavy. He was trying to keep from trembling when he felt something deep inside shift. The captain tried to ignore it and stand at attention. Then, the twisting inside of him suddenly intensified. Sargasso cried out as he doubled over in agony.
“Something wrong, captain?” Gaius asked, clasping his arms behind his back. Dorro began to giggle.
“Please…my Lord…” Sargasso gasped, falling to a knee.
“No talking. You sound like failure.” Gaius gave a frustrated sigh. “The only reason I do not make your organs dance for me on that table is because I don’t have time to find another saddle goose that fits into that armor.”
The captain cried out in pain, his intestines screaming as they writhed within him. It was becoming difficult to breathe.
“You should show the proper gratitude to the Lord Commander, Captain, for generously sparing your inept life,” Dorro mocked.
Sargasso yearned to slit both their throats but could do little other than roll on the ground in suffering. “T-h-ank…y-o-u,” he gasped.
“You will find that idiot and haul him back here. He is a valuable and necessary tool. He has a pivotal role in the invasion to come. Prove to me that you are still useful as well. Perhaps if you do, a position at the head of a legion in the new army will be in your future.”
The pain slowly began to subside as Gaius loosened his grasp. Sargasso struggled to his knees. “Yes,” the captain panted, “at once, Lord Commander…at once.”
The captain fled as fast as his armor and dignity would allow from the room. Shame and rage coursed through him. If that fool were still alive, he would make him suffer before hauling him before Gaius. Then, he would revel in whatever the Lord Commander had in store for the treasonous bastard.
***
“You are far too kind, darling,” Dorro cooed. Gaius stalked over to the window that overlooked the castle’s courtyard.
“Yes, I am kind and beneficient,” he said absently, taking up a spot before the grand view.
“Something is troubling you. If it’s the invasion, the army will be ready in time.”
“I have the utmost faith in your abilities, my flower,” he said sweetly. He snapped his fingers and pointed at an attendant. The red-clad man nodded and hurriedly moved to a bar garnished with many bottles of wine and several golden goblets. The attendant expertly poured the wine before bringing it to the Lord Commander.
“Is it…the Shadow Drake?”
Gaius said nothing and took his wine, drinking without looking at the goblet or the attendant. The attendant swiftly stepped back and retreated to the corner of the room. Gaius clenched his jaw as he thought of Drake. The Lord Commander had hoped that after their duel, the idiot would have been adequately humbled. Gaius had stripped him of every creature's comfort after that and allowed Sargasso to turn the screws to him if he was disobedient. All in the hopes he would see the truth and come to the light. Make him a man worthy of being a Sword.
Allowing Drake the measure of freedom to be out on the field, even chaperoned, had clearly been a mistake. One he did not intend to make again. Drake would be on an extremely tight leash after this. If the king learned about this escape, there was little that even Gaius could do to prevent the King from ordering Drake’s execution. The Lord Commander had to beg the King to spare the fool’s life after their duel. Gaius argued that he could keep Drake in line. He was of little actual danger—just a misbehaving child.
The truth was likely that they had yet to find a new candidate to become the Shadow Drake, should they execute him. Whatever the reason, the King had granted Gaius’s request to spare Drake’s life. Now, that idiot had thrown it in his face by escaping. The Lord Commander let out a deep sigh before finishing his wine.
“He is nettlesome,” Gaius admitted. “I had such grand designs for us, but he disappoints at every turn.” Gaius set down the goblet and moved toward Dorro. “It is of little consequence. In the end, it will not matter. You and I will sit atop a throne of the dead, and together, we will rule. It will be Drake’s decision if he is one of those bodies.” Gaius leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. Dorro giggled.