"Raider 04: Reversal" by Richard Lorenz

I awoke to pain, blood, and darkness. I started to inventory my aches and pains. Checking my teeth with my tongue to discover they were all there, although a few were loose. That’s good. Growing new teeth was painstaking work. But not as bad as re-growing eyes. I hoped my eyes were okay.

After a few seconds, I decided to forgo this exercise, and go the other direction instead. What didn’t hurt? Well, that would be the soles of my feet, since I hadn’t been allowed to walk, or even stand upright.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I remember … being dragged through the streets of some nameless little village as an object lesson in obedience, orthodoxy, and humility. There was an iron bar between my ankles in place of a chain, so, even when I tried to stand, I couldn't manage it for long. My manacles were connected to the ankle bar by another chain that was far too short for comfort. After five minutes in this forced position, I felt my back tensing and beginning to spasm painfully. A full day of not being able to stretch out was torture, even though I was informed that I wasn’t being tortured. These were normal precautions taken with someone as dangerous as I. I felt strangely flattered and warm all over.

I remember … being slung over a pack mule, with the packs still on it. The boxes dug into my ribs, and every step jolted the air from my lungs. My legs went numb while the blood pounded in my head. I screamed when feeling began to return.

I remember … laying in the back of a wagon. The driver must have been blind in one eye, and couldn’t see out of the other, as my father used to say. He hit every hole, rock, and stump in his way. He jarred my bones and rattled my teeth. I started to check my teeth , but ended up biting my tongue so hard I choked on my own blood. If the soldiers hadn’t noticed, and rolled me over, I probably would have drowned.

I remember … having the chains removed. But only for a moment. My arms and legs were reversed, and chained fastened behind my back. Now I couldn’t even hobble if I had wanted. Then I was tossed on the rough ground, striking my head on a rock. The soldiers started a fire to warm up around, but I wasn’t even given a blanket to protect me from the bitter winds coming down off the snow-capped mountains. I must have fallen asleep anyway, because I remember being kicked awake.

I don’t remember eating. I don’t remember drinking anything either. I don’t remember how long we traveled to get here. I don’t remember the name of this piss-ant little ducal fiefdom, or its lick-spittle, self-important, over-blown little duke. I only remember the pain.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I am now awake, and I can start planning my escape. I have someone to kill, (I also remember that,) and I can’t do it from the bottom of a hole.

I started to roll over, and it felt as if someone had doused me with oil and set me on fire. Flames traveled up and down my body. It felt like my joints had been taken apart by a butcher, packed with gravel, and put back together by a first year anatomy student. Who was failing in the basics. My muscles started knotting up in my arms, legs, and back. None of these muscles had been stretched full length in a while, and they protested fiercely at the mistreatment. I must have lay there for a quarter of an hour, fighting back the tears and choking on the bile in my throat. Dry heaves wracked my body, adding to the ache in muscles, but nothing came up. There was nothing in my stomach, and thee had been nothing for quite some time.

I gained a little control, and started a simple breathing exercise designed to relax my muscles, thus allowing me to have a little more control over my body. With that little bit of relief, I was able to start moving my limbs a little more. At the end of an hour, I was able to extend my arms to their full reach, and was pointing my toes in all directions. While most of the knots were gone, the pain remained like an ungracious guest in my body, unwilling to leave and not taking the hint.

I sat up slowly, and pulled my knees into the lotus position. “Incredible” whispered a voice behind me. I spun my head around, but wasn’t ready for that quick a movement. I lost my balance, and hit my head on my way down. Light flared behind my eyes, and more pain rippled outward from there. At least I knew I still had eyes.

I felt two hands gently touch my face, then slide down to my shoulders and lift me back up, and balanced me while I tried to remain sitting upright. After a moment, my body stopped heaving, and my vision cleared. Well, cleared is a bit of an overstatement. There was still nothing to see, but darkness. Pitch black.

“Why don’t you shift your eyesight, so you can see?” I wished he would stop talking to me so I could think. Actually, I didn’t want to see anything yet. Light can hurt if your head has been damaged. And how in the name of all the mortal realms did he know that I could shift sight through the spectrums? Something else to worry about now. Few people are as dangerous as those with a little bit of knowledge.

I started to ask a question, but it turned into a dry cough instead. A bowl was pushed into my hands, and now I could smell water. I took a small sip and it was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted, but I had to spit it out. It had turned to mud, and I could feel the blood coming loose from my teeth. Nasty stuff even I wouldn’t swallow. A few more sips, and I was ready to actually swallow it down. I finished off the bowl, and it was refilled for me before I could hand it back. I finally slaked my thirst, and I felt able to ask my questions.

“How …” I stopped to clear my throat. “How do you know about my eyes?”

“I made a guess, a shot in the dark, as it were. You see, I came down here to watch you die. And an amazing thing happened: you didn’t. I watch you writhe and scream in pain. Actually, you should have expired on the way here. Nobody really wanted you to make it, because of the political infighting between the secular and religious authorities. A month traveling through the worst terrain. I don’t suppose you know its only a three-days ride to get here. But they were ordered to wander around until you died.

“But you didn’t, and they came home when their own food ran out. A week on my dungeon floor, with no food or water, and you sit up as if waking from a long nap.

“I’ve only met one other person who could have done that. He was elven trained. A certain … religious … community deep in the woods, he told me. My mentor had trained for decades. And could only achieve a portion of the physical restoration you just did. He was an old man.”

The voice in my ear grew heavy with memory. “He was very old, and he taught me what he could. But I didn’t have the discipline to meditate like he demanded. I was too young and full of energy. And he was too vague and ambiguous. Nebulous promises and unknown rewards for tremendous investments of time. He was a mystic searching for perfection, and I was a youth seeking quick answers."

After a minute of silence, he continued, mentally shaking himself out of the past. “Yet, you do these things with ease. Not practice, but habit. Much as an elf would, after centuries of existence. Yet, you haven’t the pointy ears of an elf, nor the skin of an ancient man. So, what are you then?”

I sat and stared in the darkness, and asked how he could see me so well in the dark to know the state of my ears and skin. “That’s the only thing I picked up really. I had lots of practice sneaking out, slinking around the bad parts of town. I found it useful for finding out secrets. Now its your turn. Answers. No more questions.”

I could hear the command in his voice that time, and knew I was in no condition to challenge him. Yet. I was still trying to figure him out. Not so much whether I could trust him or not. Nobody outside of my own village could really be trusted. He wanted something from me. If I could just figure out what it was….

I was still too tired and sore to think clearly. I gave up on subtlety on shifted my vision. As I turned I saw him jump, and I asked, “What do you want?” I sounded a bit surly, but I had to assume he was one of my jailors. From his speech, his freedom to come down here alone, and his confidence in being alone with me, a mass-murdering cannibal, I figured he was very able to take care of himself. Especially if he had even a portion of the training he claimed.

I could see his startled face now. Although he had mentioned my eyes, he didn’t really believe. But now he could see them glowing red in the dark. At first I had no idea how he could see me, since his eyes weren’t shifted to the infrared. IR let me see heat emissions. I could identify shapes and movement, but fine detail was lost in the haze. I could see the heat blossoming deep inside his chest, working its way quickly up to his face.

IR is good for detecting liars and deceivers. I’ve also used it while hunting. Whether in the woods, or in a city, prey cannot hide their body heat.

I stared for a moment more then shifted to light amplification. Ah, there it was. Phosphorescent moulds and mosses growing on the ceiling of my own little chamber of horrors. It must have been a natural cave recently, fitted out with a door, and bars, locks and chains.

I repeated my question, “What do you want?” That’s when he struck me. He backhanded me with a clenched fist, crashing into the side of my head and bouncing me off the floor. I'd made a mistake. I had challenged his authority at a time when he was already off balance due to the fear I instilled in him. My glowing eyes had been too much for him. He needed to reassert himself.

“Answers. Now. Or I’ll make sure you die in the dark.” There it was. An explicit threat made by a man with the influence to carry it out. No common jailor then. They could threaten punishments, but not death. Quiet, secret and hidden.

I pulled myself up off the floor, and spat a tooth, and some more blood. I probed the rest my teeth and found them to be holding firm. I guess I was going to have to grow a new tooth after all.

“My apologies. I have been through a lot, and must have forgotten my manners. Mother was always big on showing respect.

“I am merely caught up in things too vast for me,” I replied, putting my hand to my chest, and lowering my head in a mock, little bow. “I would give you my name, village and line. But my name belongs to my parents who gave it to me, and only my father can share its secrets now. My village, as far as I know, doesn’t have a name. And my lineage, like my name, is not mine to share. If ever you meet my father, perhaps he will tell you everything you want to know.

“Cocky, aren’t you, considering your position,” he began smoothly. All anger seemed to be gone, if it were ever there to begin with. “If the state gets its way, your execution will be quick and public, a lesson to the masses. But then again, everyone already knows not to eat your neighbors children, no matter how much they annoy you. Not much of a lesson there.

“The Council of Temples, though, wants you for its own. They want to demonstrate the evil of heresy, atheism, and the killing of the gods messengers.

Probably a long drawn-out painful death hidden in the depths of their own torture chambers. They’ll probably fight each other for the chance to peel you like a grape. And the they’ll howl when some amateur accidentally kills you years from now. Not a very pleasing prospect.

“However, I do want something from you. And you need to be alive. So, you see, I am your only hope in this dark hole. You work for me, or you never walk out of here.”

I stood suddenly and said, “I’m famished. Would you like to accompany me out for a bite to eat?” He sat and stared at me for a moment, narrowed his eyes a little, and replied. “We might as well. I’ve been down here for a while watching you, and I could stand a little nibble of something. Lead the way.” Then he stood and gestured to the door.

A locked door, and chains on my wrist and ankles. He wanted me to hobble out of here as a reminder of our relative positions. I turned my back to him, and grasped each manacle, and they came open in my hands. Then grabbed the chains on my feet, and they popped open too. Dropping everything in a loud clatter, I straightened and stepped to the door. Touching the keyhole, I rapped a few times, and it unlocked of its own accord. That was interesting. They had locked him in here with me. I hoped I wasn’t mistaken about his identity. I didn’t want to release a dangerous criminal on society. Other than myself, of course.

I grinned as I turned back to face him, and the door swung open on its hinges. It opened almost as wide as his mouth. This obviously wasn’t what he expected. He got up slowly and inspected the door. Inch by inch, up and down, inside and out. Door, jamb, lock, and bar. Everything. He took his time, then looked back at me, his eyes hooded and thoughts well hidden.

He spun on his heel and marched up the hallway, deep in his own thoughts. I followed quickly to keep up. He was a brave man, letting someone with my reputation walk behind him in the dark. We must have walked for about ten minutes, so I had plenty of time to examine the hall. My cell appeared to be the only one in here, although I saw evidence of other rooms, or tunnels leading deeper into the mountain. I say evidence, because I had suspicions about the origins of these particular tunnels.

Humans dig in straight lines, have flat floors , and brace their walls and ceilings. They can’t feel the nature of stone the way dwarves do, so they go against the grain and have to shore up their work. Making sure nature doesn’t retaliate for the violence done to it.

Dwarves understand rock. They use its natural strengths to hold it in place while burrowing through and shaping it to their needs. Smooth, mirror-like floors, but no bracing is ever needed. Utilitarian, clean lines accompanied by few artistic representations of any kind.

Elves did not delve beneath the earth very often. But when they did, they invariably revealed the beauty of natural stone. The halls followed the terrain inherent in stone and earth. It seems to meander around, as if water had smoothed the softer stone away. The floors roll gently up and down, like waves at sea, like gentle hills, like good farmland. The ceilings are usually arched or vaulted, like tree branches interlaced overhead in a broad green forest. And every inch is usually covered with images. Ivy, vines, leaves, birds, animals, phases of the moon, constellations, and scenes from their history. Always very beautiful. Makes me kind of homesick.

This hallway had a very organic feeling to it. It had all the ‘earmarks’ of being shaped by elves. Without any ornamentation, it had an unfinished feeling to it, and I found that disquieting.

It was much darker here, lacking the mosses in my cell. I had to switch back to watching the heat from his body as he moved before me. I had no idea now how he was seeing. Eventually we saw a light ahead of us. It was irregular and very hot. We stepped through a narrow, broken fissure in the wall, and emerged in a corner of a room, between a wall and a deep cabinet.

The guards all looked startled when my escort stepped out of nowhere. But training kicked in and they all started to snap to attention, until I materialized behind him. Two of my former capturers were there, with three newcomers. Surely they had all heard of my crimes by now. The dead, the starved, the eaten. And the heretical books written in my own hand. Along with the unicorns spiral. I started off as a monster in their minds, but a purely human monster. Now, seeing me walk out of utter darkness, I assumed supernatural qualities. Their thoughts were so loud I could see them in their eyes, the shift in stances, hands clenching weapons, some making signs of protection. I was a ghost, a demon, a ghoul. Childhood nightmares taking on flesh.

It was only the calm assurance of their commander, the one who escorted me into this little guard room, that kept them from making some serious mistakes. I could tell who would attack, and who would run. My two earlier jailors, a grizzled veteran and a great big fellow built like a statue of the bull god, were ready to charge in and save their leader. A young man with his first beard in a smart uniform would have run and call for assistance. The two kids with him were just ready to run, and were looking for any excuse.

“Commander Varen, we didn’t hear your signal,” said the young officer. “We would have come and let you out.”

“More to the point,” barked the older one, “how did you get out? I know I bolted that door down there. If there’s something wrong with what I did, I need to know so it won’t happen again.” Aaahh, a real professional, I noted. Not worried about reprisal or punishment, but more interested in improving his craft. A good man to have at your side, but not across the battlefield from you.

Varen looked at me for an explanation, and I just waited to see what he would do. I didn’t think he wanted my full capabilities bandied about in taverns for everyone to hear about, just yet. He had some private use for me, and it would not do for his target to start devising defenses aimed specifically at countering my particular talents. Not that he knew much about my talents.

“I have my secrets, Korb. Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with the way you do your job. That’s why I posted you here.

“Now, how about some food. You two, bring me as much as you can carry.” The two boys turned and bolted for the door, relief plain on their young faces. The young lieutenant stopped them, and spoke quietly for a moment. Then they were out the door and up a set of stairs as if they thought I were hungry enough to eat them.

When the door had fully closed, I broke the strained silence, and they all jumped again, except Varen, who was seating himself at the table. “What were you telling them? Not about me, were you?” I tried to sound menacing without being belligerent, implying that I was his superior, although outside the normal chain of command. I wanted to see how far Varen would let me set my own role.

To his credit, he didn’t rattle. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw him at a total loss. “No sir, I did not.” Polite too. I liked that. “I was giving more detailed instructions. This was their orientation tour. I told them to bring bread, ham, cheese, fresh fruit, wine, ale, milk and water for 10 men for three days. If anyone questioned them, they were to respond with my name, not Lord Varen’s, to provision this area.” He stopped here and cocked his head, looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face. “This room isn’t used much because of the tunnel.”

“The ones you found, right? You didn’t dig those tunnels back there,” I challenged. I seated myself at Varen’s right hand, taking the seat of honor on purpose. He licked his lips, and his gaze flicked back to Varen. A little nervous. Those tunnels must scare the pants off most men if he was ill at ease. There was a click as Korb slid the cabinet in place, covering the fractured stone. Maybe ‘everyone’ didn’t know about them after all.

More secrets. I like knowing other peoples secrets. Revealing secrets can send people into a panic. Like kicking over an anthill, interesting things come to light when everyone scurries about. You have to worry about getting bitten though.

I noticed the big man trying to straighten out his uniform furtively. Korb wasn‘t worried. He had obviously been through enough campaigns to either not care or to know what he could get away with. The young officer didn’t bother because he knew he was impeccable, probably in every area of his life. Probably a very boring life.

“These are my … trusted … men. There are others I trust, but these two were posted here because of personal loyalty to me. Korb and Lem.” Korb gave me a sharp nod, and Lem just kind of watched me warily. I could see his massive chest rising and falling in agitation. Good in a fight, I would guess. But not too quick on his feet, mentally speaking.

Varen nodded to the officer. “Valentine, my nephew.” At the mention of his name, Valentine joined us at the table, followed by Korb. Lem made himself comfortable on a bench by the wall.

I started to really examine the room around me. Comfortable size for four men on guard duty, but not for extended periods of time. There was the cabinent with two doors in it, the bench, a table and four chairs. There was just the one door, leading to the stairs. Hmmm, obviously a useless location, unless they were guarding …

“That faery’s highway!” spat Lem. “That’s why we were here now. Its why we stopped excavating down here.” Maybe he wasn’t as dim as I thought, since he seemed to know what I was thinking. Varen probably wouldn’t choose people based solely on size anyway. In a private ‘army’ the size of his, he needed thinkers, strategists and tacticians.

“I was a guard on the mining crew when they broke through. That sissy captain sent the miners through, to be guarded by me, while he waited out here. He wanted us to take the risks, while he got credit for their work.

“Ten of us went in, and only one came out. Me. And I have no idea were they went. All convicted prisoners will run if given a chance, but where could they go in there? It’s a dead end down there. When I stumbled back out, I was arrested and questioned, then given over to the priests of To’kmet. Experts in information retrieval, I was told. Bloody torturers and sadists, says I.” Lem leaned over and spat on the floor.

“Yet you survived,” Valen said, trying to calm him down. “That’s why I recruited you. You are a survivor, both in chains there, and in the tunnel here.”

They kept mentioning ‘tunnel’ when I knew there were more back there. Maybe they just didn’t know how to see the other doors. That’s where the miners went, or, more likely, were taken. I was tempted to mention this, but since I didn’t know what their ultimate goals were, I didn’t know if I would be joining them. I could always slip out and use the tunnels for my own purpose. I still had a mission, and a score to settle.

I had found my eyes and ears. They may think of me merely as a hidden weapon, waiting to be drawn by Varen’s hand, used in the dark, and quietly returned to his side, ready for use again.

But I wasn’t a weapon, I was a hand. And in a body, all the parts work together for the benefit of all. A hand will shade the eyes, and the eyes will provide guidance for the hand to do its work. And I had plenty of work to do.

I came here with one target on my list, and I’ve added another of my own accord. These four men, whether they knew it or not, whether they willed it or not, would get me to within striking distance of my marks.

I knew I had to be careful here, because whoever I was after was likely to be powerful. If not a public figure, then at least a power behind the scenes. Not easily reached, maybe beloved, and the populace would likely be real upset when my work was done here.