Ontara in Peril Chapter 7

Ontara in Peril Chapter 7 Ontara in Peril Chapter 7

Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy


Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy


The Saga Continues


The Saga Continues

Chapter7 (v.1) - Chapter 7

Author Chapter Note

The Saga Continues

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 01, 2018

Reads: 251

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 01, 2018





Chapter 7:


Raina took the throne under her assumed name, and was crowned Empress Robyn the First. She kept Leonard as her personal aide. Those who had shown special loyalty to her and her beloved predecessor, and had sworn an oath of secrecy concerning her true identity, were selected as members of her court. Her closest friend and confidant was her lady in waiting, whose name was Leyna. She too had a secret: Her father was Firyen, but her mother was Sylvan. By her appearance, she was human enough to successfully conceal the truth, and her mistress was the only person outside of her family who knew.


Amongst the general population there were mixed feelings with regards to the new Ontaran Empress. Many hoped that she would continue the work that her predecessor had begun, and were more than content to let her stay in power. But there was a growing number that were somewhat disappointed, and felt that they had missed the opportunity to reinstate the many laws that had been abolished under Aremara’s reign. Naturally these were spearheaded by the Order of the Crux, and their affiliate, the Sisterhood of Kema.


It was hardly surprising that the one person whose bitterness and resentment were most obvious was Princess Isduren. She also suspected that the new Empress was not what she claimed to be, and that something was amiss. So she began some investigations of her own. She hired someone to keep an eye on the monarch’s movements, and gave him strict instructions to find out who was closest to her. The natural choice was Leyna, and one night she was abducted by the Princess and her spy, and taken to a dark room. There she was tied to a chair, and her captors injected some form of drug into her. Soon she began to hallucinate, the nightmares becoming so vivid and terrifying that she thought that she was losing her mind.


Minutes felt like hours, and an hour forever, until at last the narcotics in her system wore off. But she recalled many of those horrifying apparitions for some time after her capture. The following day - although in her dark cell she was unaware of the passage of time, excepting that she was terribly tired, thirsty and hungry - the door opened, the daylight blinding her, and a figure entered. She wore what appeared to be a masquerade mask in an attempt to conceal her identity, but when she spoke, Leyna immediately knew who it was. It was Princess Isduren.


“What have you done to me?” She asked feebly, “Why have you brought me here?”


Sitting on the girl’s lap, her captor stroked her cheek, and replied, the sarcasm and malice dripping off her tongue: “We just want to chat to you, my dear. That’s all.”


“What do you want from me?” Leyna confronted, half out of fear and half from anger, “Why did you have to drug me?”


The Princess responded, her tone hardly changing: “We need important information, not the kind that you would give us freely. So we had to persuade you somehow.”


“Well you’ll not get anything from me, you witch!” Her prisoner challenged, “I will die before I cooperate with the likes of you!”




For her impudence, she received a hard slap across her face. Her attacker ordered the figure lurking behind her to ‘give her another shot’. Soon she felt the sharp prick of a needle in the side of her neck, and the world began to spin once more. This time the visions were even more petrifying than before. When she finally recovered, she felt sick, and promptly vomited on the concrete floor. She was icy cold, even though perspiration poured off of her. She thought that she was going to die soon, and the way she felt at that moment, she actually wished that it would happen quickly.


When the masked figure returned, Leyna knew that she was not strong enough to endure another dose of whatever they were pumping into her. Her head hung in shame, she told her interrogator: “I have known the Empress for a long time. When she and Empress Aremara were still lovers, we were together somewhere in the country. There was a rumour that, while your sister was swimming naked in a rock-pool one night, Empress Robyn was sitting on a bench, masturbating. But it wasn’t like a woman. She was jerking off like a man.”


She swore that there was a gleam in the Princess’s eyes that shone right through the mask. She asked: “Are you sure?”


“Like I said.” Came the reply, “That’s what I heard.”


“Anything more?” Isduren probed.


This time Leyna responded reluctantly, as if she knew that she had already said too much: “Well, there was a rumour, that before her relationship with Aremara, the Empress was also seen with a burly llianar in a wash-room somewhere. She was fucking her from behind, and even came inside of her. Just after that, Lady Robyn herself ejaculated all over the bench below her. But, as I said, it was just a rumour. I don’t think any of these tales are true.”


In feigned agreement, the Princess shook her head, saying: “Perhaps not. But we will have to keep a close eye on our esteemed Empress nonetheless. Won’t we?”


Not long after this, a farmer found a young unconscious woman lying in his hayfield. She survived, despite having been severely beaten. When they tested her, doctors found an almost lethal quantity of the drug known on the street as ‘Meth’ in her system. Though they would not give her name, she was said to be an associate of the Empress, and was being kept under twenty-four hour guard at an undisclosed place as strictly instructed by the royal house itself. All the hospital to which she was taken after she was found could say was: “The young woman is very lucky to be alive.”


Life without her beloved Aremara became almost unendurable for Raina. Soon she began to look for someone in which she could find companionship, and perhaps even love. She knew that there was no-one who could ever fill the space in her heart that Aremara had filled, nor did she want anyone to. Instead she sought someone with which she could create new and happy memories, and perhaps look forward to a bright future.


This she found in Tabika whom she had appointed Captain of the Royal Guards. She was also a llianar, but not from purely sylvan parents, being the progeny of the days when human women were still fond of llianar lovers. She herself had taken the opportunity afforded to some llianari under the old regime, and joined one of the military units involved in covert operations. There she had achieved the rank of lieutenant. When Aremara became Empress, she was promoted to Captain, and transferred to the Imperial Guard.



Raina and Tabika were often seen sitting in the palace gardens together, enjoying each other’s company over a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. Soon their rendezvous became more intimate, like the time they were spotted sharing a swing, Tabika sitting on Raina’s lap, facing her with her legs wrapped around her waist, and it appeared that for the first time since her lover had passed away, Raina was truly happy. For most this was a sign of a better future for her, but for Princess Isduren it was an opportunity.


One Saturday, Raina and Tabika spent the afternoon in the forest close to Aremara’s resting place. The Empress had not visited the mausoleum since the funeral, and could not help but break down in tears when she at last did. In an attempt to placate her, Tabika set up a temporary shelter for them to spend the rest of the day together. A blanket was laid on the ground to prevent the grass from irritating them as they lay down next to each other. At first they were just talking casually, but soon the situation became more and more intimate. It was not long before they were kissing.


They were both naked, Tabika lying on her back, leaning against a tree. She smiled appreciatively at the slender figure that stood in front of her. Her eyes rested on the full hips, the dark triangle in the centre, and the glorious cock that was already showing its approval of the llianar that lay below her. Raina stepped closer, her legs on either side of her lover’s midriff. The other llianar reached out and gently stroked the inside of her thighs. The Empress went down onto her knees, pushing Tabika’s erect member into her. She rode up and down the warm organ, her own slapping against her lover’s body in time to her movements, pre-cum dripping onto Tabika’s tummy.


It was not long before Tabika felt her excitement reach its peak. She said, almost out of breath: “My love, I’m going to cum!”


In response, Raina locked her legs around the other llianar’s waist, and prevented her from withdrawing. Tabika’s hips lifted off the ground, and she let out a moan of ecstasy, her eyes closed. Raina could almost feel her lover’s member erupt into her, and that sense pushed her over the edge. Her butt clenched and her abdominal muscles tightened. As she came all over her lover, the warmth triggered off a second climax, and another flood filled the Empress’s uterus. Covered in perspiration, Raina collapsed into her lover’s arms, feeling her member eventually relax once again still inside her.


Kissing Tabika on the lips, Raina said softly: “I never thought I would find love again, and I’m still not sure that this is true love. But - damn! - whatever this is feels so good!”


Unbeknown to them, their tryst was not as secret as they would have liked it to be, and soon Isduren’s spy returned to his mistress with the news that she had been looking for. Almost as soon as Raina had become Empress, her rival began to drum up support for a potential revolution against her. The information she received was the final piece of the puzzle.


One morning, Raina was awakened by a commotion outside the palace. Soon a group of armed men burst through her chamber door, and seized her before she could even change out of her nightgown. At first she wondered how they had managed to gain entrance to her rooms, but as she was led out into the passage, she saw that her personal guard had been stabbed to death as he sat behind his desk. Just then even more armed men seized anyone who tried to resist, and dragged them out to the courtyard. Raina was met by a tirade of insults from Princess Isduren as she came to the top step.





She was ordered to kneel, facing the entrance where her nemesis stood. The Princess approached her, and stood in front of her. She instructed her to stand up, and then addressed the large group guarding the captives that remained kneeling. To her horror, Raina noticed that there were cameras all around, filming the events and broadcasting them to every television station throughout the Empire.


Isduren said: “People of Ontara. Now that this usurper to the throne and her followers have been captured, I will show you why this coup d’etat was necessary.”


Turning to Raina she ordered: “Now your Highness. If you value the lives of those loyal to you, you will do exactly as I say. I will order that one of them be killed for every minute you delay. Like this.”


No sooner had she spoken, when a young servant girl was forced to stand up, and her assailant stabbed her in the back of her head. She hardly had time to scream in terror before she fell to the ground, dead.


Seemingly unmoved, Isduren continued: “Take off your clothes, and then put your hands above your head.”


Reluctantly the llianar complied, and as she stood there, her captor went behind her and began fondling with her cock. She felt it harden against her will, and tried to stop it, but it seemed to have a will of its own. Isduren then clasped her breasts, and toyed with her nipples, saying: “See how these proud nipples harden when I touch them, and that is not the only part of you that reacts in this way, is it? No - because there is something that your people don’t know about you, is there not?”


Tears ran down Raina’s cheeks. Her opponent continued: “Turn around and face your subjects, and together we will reveal your dirty little secret, although I must say it is not so little. Oh come now, don’t be ashamed. I’m sure they will understand. Don’t try anything funny, or else.”


To prove that she was serious, the Princess took hold of Raina’s balls and began to squeeze until the llianar winced with agony. She turned around slowly to face the crowd. Those standing gasped in disbelief, then started jeering and hurling insults, while those held captive wept and shook their heads in despair.


“I claim the throne of Ontara from this traitor.” Isduren announced, looking every bit the triumphant victor, “Join me in standing up against such treachery, and I vow to rid our great Empire of the filth that pollutes it. No more will these demons threaten and subvert us!”


As if to punctuate what she was saying, Isduren - now self-appointed Empress of Ontara - took hold of some of Raina’s pubic hair between her thumb and index finger, and pulled on it until the llianar cried out. She then kneed her hard between the legs, forcing her to her knees. She ordered one of her thugs to put Raina in chains, and take her to the palace dungeons.


Isduren then announced: “Those who support my crusade against these non-human scum have dedicated themselves to a project that will end in their annihilation. It will not happen overnight, but it will happen. That is a promise. Take the imposter’s followers away. Let them join their beloved witch queen.”




Those that had taken the palace by force obeyed, and their captives were hauled down to the same cells as Raina. The llianar was subjected to abuse of the most degrading nature. Most of this involved being forced to perform sexual favours for the brutes that stood guard in front of her cell, sometimes more than one at a time. One of them even ordered her at knife-point to kneel on the concrete slab that acted as her bed. He then tied her hands together with a rope that he looped over the rafters above her head, and hoisted her up just enough so that her knees lifted off the thin foam mattress. He positioned himself behind her, and forced himself into her. He proceeded to pound away at her until he came inside her. At first her reaction was one of fear and horror, but by the time he had sated himself, the expression on her face was one of hatred and defiance.


One day she was led into the central chamber where she saw three of her most loyal followers. All of them had been raped and beaten repeatedly, and trussed up on various apparatuses. The first looked like a set of gallows, but instead of the victim hanging by her neck, her wrists had been tied together, and she was strung up by her arms. The second was tied between two uprights, her ankles shackled to the wooden platform, upon which they stood with her legs slightly apart. Her arms were stretched out above her head, each chained to one of the poles. Lastly, the victim was manacled to a framework in the form of an ‘X’, her feet to the lower part and her wrists to the upper.


Not long after Raina was brought in, Isduren came down the stairs from the opposite side of the large room, now fully dressed for her new role as Empress. She smiled, an uncanny glint in her eye, and stated: “Ah good - So our esteemed guest has arrived. Now she will witness first hand what happens to those who willingly betray the rightful throne of Ontara. You see - my dear - Ontara belongs to the race of men, not to demon spawn like you, and much less to those wicked beings, the Sylvan. That is the order of things, ordained by Ontanwe himself, and no-one should even dare to oppose his divine will.”


She turned to the first of her prisoners, and held her tear-stained face in her hands. In a cruel voice she said: “You are guilty of collaborating with traitors and usurpers. The sentence for your crime is death!”


Having passed this judgement, she went behind her victim, drew a rapier, and lunged it into her back until its sharp point stuck out just below her ribcage. The young woman let out a blood-curdling scream, and then slumped over forwards, her body still twitching and jerking as her life poured out of her onto the cold stone floor.


Her slayer grunted, and then admitted: “You know. I never even knew her name.”


Turning to the next victim, she repeated the verdict, but not before slashing the young maiden across her one breast, down to her sternum. This time she stood and watched, as the lanky young man with a sadistic look on his face stabbed the girl in the side of her neck with a long dagger, until the blade went right through to the other side. The murdered victim could not even cry out. Instead she made a terrible gurgling sound as blood sprayed from both sides of the fatal wound.


Before sentencing the last victim, Isduren turned once more to Raina, who by that time was very pale and trying to hold back the urge to be sick all over the floor. Her words came out thick with malice, almost as though she relished in the butchering of the first two. “These three criminals are humans too. You have yet to see what we have in store for you non-humans.”


Once again she pronounced her usual sentence, and then added: “Not only have you colluded with the enemy, but you have concealed your true identity. You are in fact half sylvan, are you not? For that we have something special in mind.”


The tyrant then stood at her victim’s head and covered her mouth to muffle her cries. At the same time she pushed her head down, almost breaking her neck in the process. Her partner then drew a longsword with an extra long blade. He was standing between the wyn’s thighs. Placing the sword point into her already violated quim, he thrust it deeper and deeper into her, until it jutted out between her collarbones. As he withdrew it again, a crimson deluge flooded out of her. In a final act of defilement, the thug unzipped his pants, and began jacking off until he covered his victim’s lifeless body with his gism.


With a smirk on her face, Isduren informed Raina: “Your male conspirators have been handed over to my sisters at the Sisterhood of Kema, if you’d like to know. There I am sure they will meet an appropriately dismal and painful end. All of them with one exception.”


To Raina’s horror, Leonard Trawarith was dragged in. He too had been assaulted, his clothes hanging in shreds, with lacerations and bruises all over his body. He was ordered to strip from the waist down. The Empress’s male companion lay on the floor. He forced Leonard to face away from him, and pulled him down onto his cock. The young man cried in agony as he felt himself being torn seemingly in two. Despite his attempts at resisting, he felt his own member become erect as his assailant’s put pressure against his prostate. Even though he was in agony, he felt his own organ fill with semen, and soon it came gushing out of him, each spasm causing his butthole to tighten around the brute’s member. With a sound like a wild animal, his attacker loosed his own filthy load into the young man, who promptly passed out in shock and pain. His unconscious body was removed once more.


During the attack on the palace, one of the few members of Raina’s court that escaped capture was Tabika. She was able to duck down a side passage as the invaders forced their way into Raina’s chambers. Once she had evaded the attention of the attackers, she made her way to the river. There she used Aremara’s old rowing boat to get to the other side, and headed away from the trouble, using the forest as cover. She returned to her home, and seemingly vanished. A few days later there was an horrific accident. When the emergency services arrived on the scene, they found the burnt-out shell of what seemed to have once been Tabika’s vehicle. Next to it was a corpse that was so badly burnt that the coroner was unable to identify the victim, not even from the dental records. In fact he couldn’t even tell whether it was male or female.


The news of her tragic death touched the lives of many people who, before Isduren’s coup, had been following the fledgling relationship between her and Raina on the mainline and social media networks. She had also been very outspoken with regards to the equality of all inhabitants of Ontara, whether human or otherkin. Those who opposed such notions seemed glad that another ‘radical’ had been removed from society, and there was even talk that she did not die in an accident, but was involved in a hit-and-run. Although this theory was never proven, the fact that there were no other vehicles on the scene seemed to support its validity.


Meanwhile it appeared that Isduren and her followers’ attention had shifted from torture to experimentation. Raina and her fellow prisoners were transferred to a so-called medical laboratory. There she was placed in a small cell with nothing but an old hospital bed.


Every day, for nine days, she was dragged into what used to be a theatre, and hung from a frame by her wrists. One of the attendants would inject some substance into the base of her penis, the pain causing her to pass out momentarily. When she stirred again, her member would feel swollen and erect, but this was no normal hard-on. It would ache, and felt like it was made of stone. Not only that, but it would overreact at the slightest touch. Her balls were like lead weights, and it was as though they could snap off at any time. Immediately she knew that the drug they were giving her was one of the banned steroids that the doctors used to administer to increase the production of Merka Milk, the same ones, that in the case of an overdose, could cause the distended organ to rupture.


Soon the assistant would return, and begin to stroke her already hyper-sensitive member. As her hand moved up and down its shaft, she could feel her climax approach. Her abdominal muscles would tense, her butt tighten, and her thighs shudder. She tried to fight the urge, but the end was inevitable. Her convulsions were like nothing she had ever experienced before, and her semen would jet out of her. As soon as she came, the sister behind her would place a kidney bowl in front of her, and catch her issue in it. Then Raina’s orgasm would become so intense that she would pass out again, but not before she felt a trickle of blood running down her upper lip. This process was repeated every three hours, and by the time the last ordeal was over, she felt as though she was about to die. She collapsed on the antiquated bed, her whole body aching and her head feeling like someone had hit her with a sledgehammer. Fortunately she was also so exhausted that she was soon fast asleep.


Isduren had put together a sizeable band of militia to do her dirty work, the same horde that was involved in the attack on the palace. Their leader was the same individual that was the Empress’s accomplice in the murders of Raina’s followers. His name was Arne Kayless. He was an officer in the armed forces before Aremara’s death, but had been dismissed under suspicion of sexually assaulting a member of the public. When it was discovered that the victim was sylvan, mysteriously the evidence against him disappeared, and the charges were dropped. Alas, even though much had been done towards creating equality for all races, such an honourable goal was far from being achieved before Aremara’s untimely death, and with Isduren taking the throne, even the progress that had been made was quickly undone.


Kayless ordered his most unscrupulous and ruthless agents to scour the streets of all the cities throughout the Empire for the offspring of humans and llianari, as well as half-sylvan males. Some of these people had become influential in their communities, and were actively involved in the changes in Ontaran society pioneered by Aremara herself. They were taken to various facilities. There the doctors and other staff would use the same stimulants that had been given to Raina. These would induce massive orgasms, and the scientists would collect their semen in Petri-dishes and kidney bowls. At first the purpose of these barbaric acts was a mystery. There seemed to be no motive for them at all.


Tarron Connack had been trained in covert operations before Aremara’s passing, but as soon as her sister seized the throne, he took refuge in a small village outside of Hykis. There he made contact with individuals who had worked to protect both sylvan and llianar alike from the abductions that took place before, when the previous Emperor was in power. Now that it was clear that the time had come to defend their kin once more, their numbers began to grow. Far from the cities, safe-houses were established where refugees and fugitives would be able to find succour.


One night a cloaked figure appeared at the door of one of these places of refuge. She was ushered indoors, and everyone in the village was instructed never to reveal the mystery person’s true identity. It was clear, however, that this was a very important individual indeed. This person ordered Tarron to infiltrate one of the labs where the research was taking place, and report back with his findings.


He barely escaped with his life, but the intelligence that he had gathered shed some considerable light on what had, until then, baffled everyone. His report stated that the masterminds behind this endeavour were partners, experts in genetic engineering. Their names were Doctor Eldon Zeidinger and Professor Zarros Ganiel, both of which were loyal and revered members of the Order of the Crux. They had put forward a theory that it was possible to alter sylvan and llianar DNA, by changing its genetic coding in order that the race of future generations could be controlled. It was postulated that this would mean, that although the parents were either sylvan or llianari - if they were right - any offspring could possibly be human.


Tarron concluded his report by stating: “It appears that the aim of this research is to see to it, that in future, our people cease to exist. They seek to harness whatever advantages our race has because of our genetic make-up, by grafting these into their own gene-pool, while eradicating us from the world that they claim belongs to them by some form of ‘Divine Decree’. This is not research. It is genocide!”


All the while, Erunon remained true to the cause to which his sister and her lover held. From the many sylvan and llianar outcasts and runaways, he had gathered a sizeable group of militant resistance fighters, people who believed - as he did - that they would rather die than see their freedom taken away from them.


Sadly their actions had attracted the attention of the new militia, more precisely the commander in chief. He sent two of his most experienced agents to track him down.


“Bring him back alive and unharmed.” Was his strict instruction.


Erunon received a message on his com-link that one of his informants had some very important intel to give him, and that he wished to meet him at a classy bar in the wealthier part of the city’s CBD. When he arrived, his comrade was waiting for him. Almost immediately Erunon could sense that something was amiss. The young man seemed tense, not to mention more than a little nervous.


“Tiybalt.” The lan enquired, “Is there something wrong?”


The only thing his colleague could say in reply was: “Sorry Heru. But they have my wife and child, and have threatened to kill them both. I am truly sorry.”


“Tiybalt - What the hell...” Erunon could not even finish his question when he felt the butt of a pistol strike him on the back of the head. The world began to spin, and soon he was out cold.


When he awoke, he was lying on a bed in what appeared to be a hotel room. He was naked, and he felt two soft equally naked bodies lying on either side of him. When his eyes were able to fully focus at last, he saw that he was flanked by a pair of beautiful young women. He may have thought at first that he had died and gone to the Happy-Place if it were not for the dull ache he felt at the base of his swollen member, a sure sign that he had been injected with some form of steroid. Another sight that spoilt his dream was the burly human that stood against the far wall watching him. He carried a small machine gun slung over his shoulder. The other dampener was discovering that his hands were tied to the headboard, and his feet to the foot of the bed.


One of his bed companions rested her head on his chest, while her hand toyed with his pubic hair. The other’s leg was across his own, pinning him down while she fondled with his already turgid cock. As his excitement began to peak, she looked up at him. He could hardly believe that one so beautiful could be an accomplice in his interrogation.


Nonetheless, she smiled up at him, and then said, her voice thick with seduction: “Tell us, sylvan princeling, where your base of operations is, and what you and your pitiful band are planning. If you do, we will make this a night to savour.” As if to prove her point, she intensified her stroking until he felt as if he was about to explode, then stopped just before he came. The drugs they had given him made his climax even more potent, and he felt as though his balls would surely be drained at any time. The woman placed her hand over the tip of his cock, feeling the warm surge against her palm.


As his body began to relax, she slowly resumed her coaxing, and reiterated: “Give us the information we seek. I can guarantee you won’t regret it.”


He remained silent, and so she began her torture all over again. After he had cum the first time, Erunon expected his organ to go flacid once again, but it did not, and soon the rigid member began to ache under the strain. Relentlessly, the woman continued to jack him off, urging him towards a second equally explosive climax. Another followed, and another, until there was little or no build-up between orgasms. By this time the agony in his nether parts made sure that any enjoyment, that would normally have accompanied such massive peaks, was quickly replaced with a sense of dread. Soon it seemed that every muscle in his body ached every time his tormentor forced more of his semen from him.


He had no idea of how long this torture continued, but it seemed to be hours. The spasms had become so severe that he started to have difficulty breathing, and his vision began to blur. Not long after that, he knew that he was suffering from exhaustion and hypoxia. No longer did his body relax after each climax. He had cramps in his abdominal muscles, as well as those in his upper thighs. The veins in his still erect member stood out under the strain, and he felt as though he had been kicked in the balls by a horse. Soon the colours all around him became psychedelic, and then began to fade completely, until at last he slipped into unconsciousness. And still he would not divulge a single word.


The next thing he knew was that he was hanging by his wrists in a cold cell. He felt as though he was running a fever, and that made the ambient temperature even colder. The stone wall was damp against his back, and there was no illumination except for the pale light of dawn that shone through the small barred window on the opposite wall. Every muscle in his body ached, and he felt sick to his stomach.


As he stirred, he could hear the voices of two men in the room with him. He raised his head and saw that the one was wearing the uniform of the new militia. The other wore a double-breasted overcoat. Both of them appeared to be in their mid to late forties, although the one in uniform was a little older.


He leaned forward and pushed Erunon’s head up so that they saw eye-to-eye. He sneered at him, and said in a cruel voice: “Well little princeling - You refused to cooperate when we were easy on you, so now we’re going to try the hard way. Before we start, is there anything you want to tell us?”


“As a matter of fact, there is.” Replied Erunon, his voice filled with venom, “Amin rauta Ile aye nonda daro tar!” Which meant ‘I will hunt you to death and beyond.”


His interrogator seemed to understand what he was saying. He grabbed the sylvan by the scruff of his neck, and pulled him closer, snarling: “You will see death before I do, mark my words, sylvan scum!”


Both of his assailants began to pound him, one with his fist and the other a baton. It did not take long before they had beaten him senseless, blood pouring out from a puncture wound as one of the five ribs they had broken pierced his skin. Suddenly they recalled the instruction from their master: ‘I want him alive, and unharmed.’ Together they carried him to the infirmary, where they tried to convince the staff to take care of him without informing their superior, a promise that they refused to uphold.

The men were called into their commander’s office, the door closing behind them. Instead of their superior, there sat a figure in black robes. On his breast there was the insignia of a scarlet cross enclosed in a shield, the arms dividing it in equal parts. This was the mark of one of the high-ranking members of the Order of the Crux. Although he smiled as they entered the room, the look in his eyes made both of the men feel distinctly ill-at-ease.


In a voice that could turn one’s gut to ice, he asked: “Are you both deaf?”


Frightened, they muttered: “No your Excellency.”


“I can’t hear you.” The other insisted.


In a louder voice, the men repeated their reply. As if he was addressing children, the cleric nodded and said: “I see. So I gather then that you willingly ignored your commander’s strict orders regarding the sylvan prisoner, did you not?”


“But he wouldn’t cooperate.” The older man replied in an attempt to defend their actions.


“Of course he didn’t!” Came the response, “He is a warrior, and a sylvan warrior at that! He would rather die than divulge any information to the likes of you. It was your task to capture him, not to interrogate him. Now matters are worse, and any chance of gaining the intelligence we need has been delayed. His resolve has been strengthened by you beating him to a pulp, and we have to wait for him to recover. He is no good to us dead.”


“We apologise, your Excellency.” Both of them re-joined.


“Oh you’ll do more than that.” The robed man assured, “I have spoken to your commander, and he has agreed that we cannot afford loose cannons in the militia. As of right now, both of you have been dismissed. Pack your things. I want you out of here within the hour, or else!”


Dejected, the two thugs bowed their heads and left the room.


In the meantime, Erunon was in a private hospital receiving the best treatment for his injuries. Two guards were posted at his door to make sure that he didn’t try to escape. Not that he was in any position to. His assailants had not only left him with broken ribs, but a blow from the one thug’s baton had fractured his tibia just below the right knee. Without assistance, there was no way he could manage on his own. He also knew - which gave him a strange sense of satisfaction - that the ones behind his capture were intelligent enough to realise that they would not be able to get anything out of him if they killed him, and seeing he had suffered from a haemothorax, where the one rib had punctured his lung causing his chest cavity to fill with blood, he knew that his life depended on the therapy he was receiving. All he could do was wait until his comrades devised a plan to set him free.






© Copyright 2019 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.


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