The King's Challenge #309

TKC 309

My stomach continues to roil even after Damin and Ross dump Lorn Makar in the small and insulated chamber. Never had I used a talent to cause harm and I do not know how to deal with the result of my actions.

Retreating to sit legs drawn up opposite where Lorn lies, I remain silent. Damin flicks me a searching look, but as the focus must be with our captive he soon turns away. Suddenly I feel bereft.

Siri sits beside me, briefly leaning her shoulder against mine in support. She understands. Now I do not feel as lonely.

Leffandir paces, her face expressionless. She looks at no one; she has focused her attention inward.

Siri healed Lorn enough for the man to be conscious and Enris props him up against the padded wall opposite me and Siri. Enris crouches at the man wounded feet. “Well done, Commander,” he murmurs, indicating the two bolts that felled the man.

Gennerin stares down wordless. He holds a small crossbow in one hand, a new bolt attached. Lorn Makar will not get away from him, even if he was able to. “The crossbow is silent,” Gennerin eventually remarks in answer to Enris.

“Indeed,” my brother murmurs. “Unfortunately, Lorn was a bit vocal.”

“They will be looking for him now,” Damin says in a grim tone. Jerking his head at Kay, he indicates that he and the westerner take up positions at the torn hole. There the two men stand guard; Ross, upon sign from his commander, joins them.

It is time for Lorn to talk. Gennerin stands at the man’s left, while Mirlin hunkers to his right.

Enris stares into our uncle’s two-toned blue eyes. “Talk.”

Lorn is lucid, although agony assails him, clear in the way he twitches. “Boy, I have nothing for you.”

“Then you die now.”

“If I die, your father does as well. Go ahead; my son is ready to sit on the throne back on Makaran.”