Novels2Search
The Will-Breaker
Book 2, Chapter 42: Friction (Part 2)

Book 2, Chapter 42: Friction (Part 2)

“How could you do something so stupid?”

Quilla had seen Dyle angry on a few occasions, but she’d never seen him lose his cool quite like this. It was surprisingly entertaining, if only because of who he was angry at.

Lidda Plavin sneered. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

Dyle laughed a harsh, single laugh. “You had no right.”

“No right? How dare you tell me what rights I have.”

Dyle walked right up to her and slapped her.

She reeled back, placing a hand on her cheek. She looked frantically about at the other people in the room. No one moved to her defence.

“I’ve warned you before about your lack of respect,” Dyle growled. “You will learn your place.”

Lidda Plavin was shaking visibly, but she straightened up. “As you wish.” She hissed her words.

They were in the entry room of the cellar. Quilla had not been allow out in the three days since coming here. In that time, she had met the others residing here, including Vellon, who was currently standing by the door to the stairs, behind Lidda Plavin. Dyle had not been exaggerating how horrid that man was. However, he hadn’t actually tried anything awful against her, though Quilla couldn’t look at him without imagining the horrid things he might do.

Dyle turned his back to Lidda Plavin. “There’s also the fact you performed the ceremony on Laänne Friaz without permission, without even so much as telling anyone you were doing it.”

“You should, at the very least, have told me,” Barnol Friaz said.

This was the first time Quilla had met any of the Darkers from the Palace. Lidda Plavin had not been a surprise, but Barnol Friaz was a revelation. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised, but she also hadn’t suspected him.

He was sitting at the table across from Quilla. As usual, he had a box of chocolates with him, and he licked at his fingers between sentences. “She was my cousin’s youngest child, and very dear to him. She was here under my protection. How am I supposed to tell him she’s dead? What am I supposed to tell him now that it’s become common knowledge she was a Servant? Or should I say Darker, since that is the pejorative they’re using.”

Lidda Plavin sneered. “I don’t give a damn what you tell him. Laänne volunteered for the ceremony. She wanted it, and she was an ideal candidate.”

Barnol banged his fists on the table, shaking his box of chocolates. “Ideal candidate, my ass! You got her killed! I loved that girl almost as much as I love my own daughter.”

Lamaën cleared his throat. He was leaning in one of the darker corners of the room, and so far, had not said anything. He came forward now, stroking his moustache. “I should point out, the Dark Lord accepted her and gave her the requested power, so clearly she was an ideal candidate.”

“Thank you,” Lidda Plavin said.

Lamaën rounded on her. “That doesn’t change the fact you took an unacceptable risk going after that sword like that. She may have been granted the power, but she was inexperienced. You gave her no time to learn to use it properly. You got her killed and quite possibly have cost us our plans here.”

Lidda scoffed. “Did I? And what exactly are our plans? You give us the vaguest information and just expect us to sit back. Meanwhile, the Sword is right under our noses, waiting for us to take it!”

“Daemonslayer is in Singea,” Lamaën said.

“As I’ve tried to tell her,” Dyle said.

“It is here!” Lidda said. “It fits all the descriptions. He even calls it Slay, an obvious diminutive of Daemonslayer.”

Lamaën chuckled. He stroked his moustache. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You’ve fallen for a fake. In the years following Daemonslayer’s construction, many copies were made. Since the real one is in Singea—trust me, I’ve seen it as has your future Dusk Supreme; it is well protected—Rudiger can only have one of the copies. So it’s time you dropped your obsession with it.”

Lidda Plavin looked away, and didn’t say anything.

Lamaën waited a few seconds. “Well?”

“Fine,” Lidda muttered.

“Speak up.”

“I said fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

Lamaën smiled, and stroked his moustache some more. “Good. In that case, we can move on. You asked about our plans. It’s time we talked about them in more detail. Barnol, you have the Pearl?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Barnol pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the chocolate from his fingers. Then he pulled out a pouch.

Lamaën took it from him. “Thank you, my friend.”

Lidda pointed at Quilla. “We’re going to discuss this in front of her?”

Dyle groaned.

“You are aware of who this is, yes?” Lamaën said.

“Yes,” Lidda answered.

“Then you know her importance. She is an honoured guest.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Lidda scoffed. “Important, yes. Honoured guest? She should be locked up, kept out of the way until she’s needed.”

Lamaën pulled at his moustache. “You are determined to be as difficult as possible, aren’t you?”

Dyle smirked, though he had positioned himself behind Lamaën’s back out of Lamaën’s sight.

“No, not at all,” Lidda said. “I’m just looking for an explanation why we’re treating someone who has actively worked against us and with our enemies as an honoured guest.”

Lamaën pulled at his moustache some more. “Dyle, would you mind?”

Dyle came forward, a smile on his face. “Not at all.” He winked at Quilla, still positioned in a way Lamaën wouldn’t see. He turned to Lidda Plavin. “Lidda, how many times do we have to go through this disobedience and disrespect? I have invited Quilla to be with us. She’s had a falling out with her former friends. Or maybe she hasn’t and is just pretending. It really doesn’t matter either way. She has no way to go back to them and tell them anything she learns here, and the more we treat her well, the more she learns it’s to her benefit to be on our side. I also know her quite intimately, and I know how she thinks and operates. We used to be married, you know?”

He walked over to Quilla and put his hands on her shoulders. She glared at him and he backed away. “Yes, of course, sorry.”

Lidda laughed. “Yes, you know her so well.”

Dyle shrugged it off. “My point is, Quilla is one of us now. She is an honoured guest.”

Quilla groaned. “It would be nice if you’d let me speak for myself, Dyle, instead of carrying on an argument about me right in front of me.”

Dyle smiled. “Of course.”

She stood and marched over to Lidda Plavin. “If you have something against me, say it to my face.”

Lidda Plavin just stared at her.

“I know all about your Red Knights and your quest for racial purity or whatever bullshit you call it. So I know exactly what your problem with me is, or your problem with Dyle. Just know this, I’m here, whether you like it or not, and while I don’t know all the details of whatever I’m needed for, it would seem to make me more important than you. So you want me, bitch? You come at me. Just remember the consequences.”

Lidda slapped her.

Quilla took a deep breath. “Dyle, what exactly are the consequence?”

Dyle shrugged. “Double for now, maybe more for repeated offences. Sam, hold her.”

Sam came up behind Lidda and grabbed her arm. She struggled, but he was far too strong for her.

Quilla slapped her. Then slapped her again. Then she turned around and walked back to the table and sat down. Her heart pounded, and she tried desperately to control her breathing She couldn’t show them her fear. She needed to be ruthless.

“Give me one of those.” She reached out and grabbed Barnol’s box of chocolates.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Barnol spluttered.

She pulled out a chocolate and pushed the box back to Barnol.

Dyle came up beside her. “Gods, you’re sexy.”

“Fuck off, Dyle.” She popped the chocolate in her mouth. It was actually pretty good.

Dyle backed away.

“Are all these petty rivalries done now?” Lamaën asked. “Can we continue?”

“By all means.” Dyle motioned to Sam, who let go of Lidda.

Lidda rubbed her wrists.

Lamaën straightened the ends of his moustache, then lifted up the pouch. He opened it and emptied the contents into his palm. It was a single white pearl. He held it up, turning and displaying it to everyone in the room.

Quilla stared at it, and held back a gasp. Hadn’t that strange Isyar said something about a pearl? A pearl that had to go to Felitïa? Could this be it?

“This is one of a pair of items,” Lamaën said. “They are known by many names, although most recently as the Pearls of Sestin. By themselves, they are potent. Together, they are more powerful. If joined to the Staff of Sestin, their true power is released. The Staff is currently in the possession of the Will-Breaker. She must not, under any circumstances be allowed to get her hands on the Pearls.”

“Where is the other Pearl?” Lidda asked.

Lamaën lowered the pearl and put it back in the pouch. “Unfortunately, I don’t know. Finding it is something I’m dealing with, and all of you here need not concern yourselves with it. You need only concern yourselves with this one.”

“And the Staff?” Lidda said. “Shouldn’t that be wrested from the Will-Breaker?”

“Your uncle is dealing with that.” Lamaën walked up to Lidda Plavin. “I believe some time ago, I promised you the crown of Arnor.”

Lidda scowled. “You did, and I’m making great headway with Malef. But he’s not next in line, is he? He’s not even second. How are you going to pull off your incredible feat of putting me on the throne? You’ve yet to explain fully.”

Lamaën smiled. “You’ll be happy to know I’m about to. However, first, I need your assurance you will put aside your petty rivalries with everyone else here. If you cannot dedicate yourself fully to what’s at hand, I will find someone else to give the throne to. Someone who will do as she’s told. Someone who won’t cause friction.” He stared intently into her eyes. “Well?”

She sighed. “You have my assurance.”

Lamaën turned aside. “Good.” He began to circle the room as he spoke. “The key to our success lies in the Pearl. Dyle and a couple others have been learning how to use some of its minor powers, but we are going to use one of its more significant ones.”

As Lamaën explained the plan and what the Pearl could do, all Quilla could do was listen aghast. What he was saying was absurd, ridiculous, impossible. But he was deadly serious. She had to get word to Zandrue and Rudiger somehow, though she wasn’t sure what she could do once they knew. Whatever the case, if they didn’t do something soon, no one in either the Palace or Arnor City would survive.