Martin never dressed so quickly in his High Elder robes before. He was prepared for a message from Tolomon, but not like this. Not this soon. Not where Indenuel was in the High Elder’s library at this time of night. Martin made his way to the Cathedral. He wasn’t sure what he would say to Indenuel to help him confess of his sins. He considered writing Nathaniel for advice, but there was no way a message could get through to him right now. He would have to approach this carefully on his own.
The carriage stopped and Martin climbed out, heading up the stairs as swiftly as he could. He heard pounding from the basement. “Indenuel!” Tolomon shouted. “Open the door!”
Martin climbed down the spiral staircase, and Tolomon looked relieved. “Forgive me, sir. I did not want to break the law.”
“Of course, Tolomon. May you be blessed for your obedience.” Martin noticed some blood on his chest, and swiftly healed the injuries. Martin opened the doors to the reading room and lit a lantern before going into the library. Another lantern flickered in the distance.
“Indenuel?” Martin called. He was crouched over a reading podium, his shoulders stiff, his body covered in shadow. “My boy, it’s late. You must be-” Martin froze as he saw the book on the podium. Whatever lecture, whatever words he practiced to get Indenuel to confess, they all left him as he saw him leaning over that book. Indenuel turned. It might have been the dim lamplight, but he could have sworn the boy’s eyes were black.
“You knew.” His voice was low and dangerous. Martin took a step back. “You knew this whole time and you never told me.”
Martin held up a hand. “Let me explain-”
Indenuel grabbed the book. “Why should I trust one more thing that comes from your devilish mouth!” He threw it as hard as he could. Martin barely moved out of the way as it hit another bookshelf.
He was in danger. Indenuel had murder in his eyes. “I know what this might look like to you. We were going to tell you in due time.”
“And once again, you had multiple opportunities you ignored!” Indenuel took steps toward Martin, and he hastened to move out of the library toward where four guards and a Graduate would certainly save him if he tried anything. At this point he didn’t care if one of the darkest High Elder’s secrets was out.
“We were going to tell you!” Martin insisted. “Before the year was up. We didn’t know how much your mother knew, so we wanted to ease you into the idea. But we still had a while yet.”
Martin stumbled into the reading room, placing his lantern on the table when Indenuel grabbed the front of his robes. Martin tried to catch himself, but Indenuel dragged him away from Tolomon and the guards, before ramming him against the far wall. Tolomon barely took one step into the reading room before Indenuel flicked his wrist at the door. The roots under the basement shot into the air, breaking the floor before closing the doors and interlocking themselves. Martin’s eyes widened before he looked at Indenuel’s dark eyes. Tolomon was the only one who could protect him against Indenuel, but now they were alone.
“Tell me right now!” Indenuel screamed.
Tolomon pounded on the door. “Indenuel! Stop it!”
Martin winced, not daring to touch Indenuel. He held his hands up in surrender. “Of course! Of course, I will! You… you have every right to know.”
“If I find out you’re lying to me again, I am going to personally shove you into the deepest pit in Hell I can find!”
Martin struggled to get his breath back. His voice trembled as he did his best to stay calm. “Twenty-five years ago, High Elder Leo was murdered, starting the war, and we High Elders were in way over our heads.” Indenuel never let go of the front of Martin’s robes. He didn’t expect him to. It was the only thing holding Martin up, as his legs struggled to regain function. “We needed help, the Oraminians were winning, and there was already talk of Zimoro coming to their aid. We were desperate when we realized the Prophet Jaakob’s deeper revelations gave us exactly what we needed. We knew what the woman would look like, and we already knew the boy would grow up without knowledge of a father.” There was no denying the darkening of Indenuel’s eyes now. “So, we created this secret law. We disguised ourselves and slept with desperate women all over the country in all sorts of brothels, even picking them up from off the streets. Most of them never realized it was us. Those who ended up carrying a male child were given a small allowance every month for nineteen years to keep themselves from dying in their desperate state.”
“A small allowance?” The hatred was clear in his eyes. “A small allowance for being left desperate and with child!”
“These women were truly, truly desperate. We could have given them a copper and they would have been relieved. The prophecy said the Warrior would grow up in humble circumstances, we had to-”
Indenuel lifted Martin and rammed him against the wall again, cutting off his words. “And the women that carried girls?” Indenuel asked.
Martin closed his eyes. “It… it wasn’t part of the… the Warrior wouldn’t be a girl.”
“You left them to die!” Indenuel screamed.
“We left them to be taken care of the best way they knew how.”
“Did my mother know Cristoval was a High Elder when he raped her!”
Martin tried to gather his strength. The roots of the trees shook as Tolomon tried desperately to break them. “Indenuel, you are not in a fit state of mind to have this conver-” Martin started to say.
Indenuel rammed him against the wall again, knocking all the air from him. “Tell me!”
Martin coughed, trying to wrestle free from Indenuel’s grip, but he only tightened his hold. “Tell me!”
“Indenuel!” Tolomon shouted from the other side. “Let him go!”
Martin panted. “No, we would have known if she knew.”
“Why! What did you do? What did you tell the women who knew you were High Elders!”
Martin’s face was showered with Indenuel’s spit. “Only a few… a few thought they had it figured out…” Martin hesitated, terrified of Indenuel’s reaction. “We listened to rumors. If they thought… if any of them suspected… the prophecy said the mother would die right before he was discovered--”
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Indenuel punched Martin right in the mouth. He would have fallen if Indenuel hadn’t kept a firm grasp of his robes with his other hand. “You murdered them! You murdered women and children for giving away your secrets.”
“Please,” Martin said, his lip numb. “Please, the prophecy was too important to-”
“Damn your prophecy straight to hell where it belongs!” Indenuel screamed before he punched him again. Martin collapsed on the ground.
“Indenuel! Stop!” Tolomon shouted from behind the door. The door splintered and broke, but there was still the thick roots keeping Tolomon away.
“You knew! You knew this whole time that Navir gives assignments to the Graduates to murder children!” Indenuel screamed.
“How… how did you…” Martin started to say.
“You killed the women and bastard children of the High Elders! Because you realized they didn’t fit the prophecy!”
“We did not kill all of them!” Martin said. “Just the ones that threatened to spill our secrets. I swear it!”
“You forced Graduates to do your dirty work! You made them murder children!”
Martin was trying to breath. His nose was broken, and the air wasn’t coming quickly enough to his lungs. “They didn’t kill that many!”
“They! Killed! Enough!” Indenuel kicked Martin’s stomach with every word.
Martin coughed and groaned, scooting away from Indenuel. “I… I know… you have… every right to be… to be angry.” Martin was against the wall, holding his stomach. “We didn’t mean for… for you to find out this way. We would… ease you into the idea-”
“Garen beat you to it!” Indenuel’s eyes were now burning black. It reminded him of when he was possessed, and yet this was all Indenuel. The distortion, the blackness, the fear that he would die by this boy’s hands, there was no devil inside his body. He chose to do this himself.
“Don’t speak the devil’s name. Don’t. It gives him power,” Martin whispered.
Indenuel lifted his hands, corrupted pain accumulating in his palms. “You would know. You lie as much as he does.” There was murder in his burning black eyes. “I hope you rot in hell.”
Indenuel thrust his wrists forward, and Martin forced a shield out of his own palms, praying to the dead Gods it would be enough. The air rippled around them as pain pounded against Martin’s shield. He struggled to his feet, keeping his shield steady. He closed his eyes, throwing all his power into it. The air crackled between them, and the wind picked up chairs and spare papers. Martin pushed forward, trying to get his power to devour the pain, but it was too much. The pain burst from Indenuel’s wrists, no end in sight.
“You know the kind of hell my life was like!” Indenuel screamed through the whirlwind. “Did you honestly expect me to follow you into war like an obedient little dog? Did you think some fancy clothes and a fancy house would somehow make the horrors of growing up a bastard child go away?”
Tears fell from Martin’s eyes. His arguments were pointless and feeble. He hated this project, just as he hated the concubine law that eventually grew out of it, but he had to do what he needed to in order to save Santollia. He ignored this project until the third month of the year, then did his quiet duty, filling the books with names of women and whether or not they had boys. He had gotten really good at ignoring it, just as he chose to ignore Navir’s letters to Reynaldo. But now, pushed up against the wall by a waterfall of corruption, he realized a horrible truth. Indenuel was right. Martin belonged in Hell for this.
Crack!
Martin looked at his shield, his eyes widening. A shield never cracked before. Dimmed, but not this. What was it doing? Martin tried to feed it more power, but even as he did, a dark force yanked energy from his soul.
More cracks appeared, his shield becoming a spiderweb of broken healing before all sound was sucked out of the air and the wind stopped. Martin had time to realize he couldn’t breathe when an explosion rocked the reading room. He had no recollection of smacking his head against the wall. He simply was on the ground, his wrist broken and swelling, his lungs desperate for air.
Tolomon was in the reading room, wrestling Indenuel to the ground. Navir and Fadrique were at Martin’s side, terror written on their faces.
“They are the ones that let you murder! I’m going to kill them!” Indenuel shouted.
Tolomon said nothing. He simply pinned Indenuel to the ground and put him in a choke hold. Indenuel gasped for air, trying to claw at Tolomon before his eyes rolled up and he went limp. Tolomon released Indenuel, touching his fingers to his temples to make sure he didn’t have any brain damage before he stood, giving a small bow in the High Elders direction. “Forgive my law breaking, High Elders. I needed to stop him.”
Martin nodded, not sure what else he could do. Tolomon’s protection was the whole reason why he backed into the reading room in the first place. No one stood a chance against a corrupted individual except Tolomon.
Navir nodded. “It is forgiven. He will remain unconscious?”
“He is in the devil’s sleep now,” Tolomon said.
Navir and Fadrique helped Martin to his feet before easing him in one of the chairs. He shivered, trying not to look at his wrist. His body was reacting to the hurt. A guard knelt next to Martin, touching his temples. The warm healing power entered his body and ran its course, helping him to stop shivering. The guard wasn’t as skilled, and it took a while for the bones to fuse together, but Martin was willing to wait. The lack of pain was what he needed in order to focus.
The guard released him, and Martin tried to smile but once he looked at Tolomon, he found he couldn’t. He didn’t know how much Tolomon heard, and the man had a distinct frown on his face. Martin took out his handkerchief, trying to wipe the blood from his face.
“Indenuel tried to murder a High Elder,” Navir said as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “He is to be arrested and thrown in the King’s dungeon. We…” Navir rubbed his forehead. “We will wake him up in another day’s time, where he will stand trial for his actions, both tonight, and the night before.”
“Navir,” Martin started to say. He wanted to speak some words on Indenuel’s behalf, but there were none. Navir was right. Indenuel needed to be locked away. He was out of control, and they couldn’t have a calm conversation about this until everyone was in a better state of mind.
Tolomon turned to one of the guards. “Go get irons. One fit for a corrupted individual.” The guard left up the stairs. Martin’s free hand trembled, and he looked at it. Something was off. Something he knew deep down in his soul but was too afraid to admit out loud.
“Tolomon?” Navir asked. Tolomon was leaning against a table, his shoulders hunched, tears in his eyes. He looked up to see Navir before he tore his gaze to look at Martin. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at this man who was his son’s closest friend. Tolomon heard everything, and he was struggling not to react.
“Are you alright?” Martin asked.
Tolomon stared at him. “Perfectly fine, Martin.”
He frowned. Tolomon didn’t call him sir. He had of course asked for Tolomon to stop calling him sir, but it didn’t feel nearly as honorable as he expected it to be.
It was then that Martin realized what this was. He assumed Tolomon was keeping the assignments to the Graduates of the common class quiet like Martin had. Tolomon, like Martin, simply refused to acknowledge it was happening. But as he saw the pain in Tolomon’s eyes, he realized Tolomon did not know Martin was aware of what was going on. Tolomon did not believe Martin would stand aside and let it happen, but it was that realization that brought this man to tears. Tolomon now knew Martin was fully aware of what was happening, and the betrayal in his face was enough to make Martin look away.
A guard returned with irons and Tolomon took them. Martin watched, feeling detached as Tolomon grabbed Indenuel’s arms and pulled them behind his back, chaining him quickly. He then picked Indenuel up like he was nothing more than a rag and threw him over his shoulder. He turned to face Navir, Martin, and Fadrique. “I shall continue to fulfill my duties by staying with Indenuel in his cell.”
“Thank you, Tolomon,” Navir said.
The lump appeared in Martin’s throat. He stared at his hands, feeling like he was going to be sick. Dalius walked down the spiral staircase, his smile dropping as Tolomon passed him with Indenuel slung over his shoulder. Dalius walked into the room, stepping over the roots that had broken the floor.
“I really need to show up to meetings on time,” Dalius mumbled.
“Close the door, Dalius,” Martin said quietly.
Dalius reached past the roots to pull the doors closed, though they were barely hanging on. The guards understood the need for privacy and went to the edge of the spiral staircase.
Martin raised his hands toward Navir. “I need to check something.”
Navir nodded. Martin placed his fingers against his temple and pushed with all his might, but instead tears fell down his cheeks. “It’s gone.” He opened his eyes, staring at his hands in horror. “My healing is gone.”