The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 58: Self-Preservation

"You!" Tia spat, leaping forward, about to punch him in the face. The boy's face went white and he struggled to maintain an air of indifference. Enlil yanked her back and she struggled, furious.

Light fell on monkey-like features: dark, intelligent eyes, a blunt nose, a smirk, low-set ears, and an overall conceited expression.

It was Nisroch, the Windcaster trainee they had met in Capital, who had given Tia the lock-picks to break Enlil out of jail. Master Shamash's apprentice.

"You dare betray your own country and the Wind?!"

The boy shrugged, failing to appear nonchalant. He had a deep cut on his cheek, which was fresh, and it began to seep blood. Despite his apparent air of cockiness, he was still twitchy, almost anxious.

"Self-preservation, Tiamat. They promised to spare my life."

Tia felt like her chest would explode with fire.

"Just as I now promise to end yours, scum!" she seethed, eyes blazing. "Have you no honour? No dignity?"

"All our Masters were the honourable, dignified people you speak so highly of. Look at where they are now."

Tia made a vehement sound. Nisroch raised an eyebrow at her in a most infuriating manner, but he made no further comment. He hitched his smug look back on again, wincing as the slave soldier behind him yanked his head back harder than necessary.

"We are not here for you," Enlil said. His calm persona reminded Tia why they were there. She glared daggers at the kneeling traitor, who looked away with disinterest. "Nevertheless, rest assured, your life will not be spared, Nisroch."

There was a shocked silence.  Tia's face went as white as Nisroch's.

"But..." she whispered, horrified. "You cannot actually kill Nisroch, Enlil!" She didn't notice a look flit across the traitor Caster's face.

"Kill me, then." Nisroch's voice was quiet, but each syllable chilled her to the core.

"What?"

"Mawlin has lost." His tone was nonchalant once more, despite his pallor. "Whether it is here or elsewhere, my outcome is the same. You got me: I am a traitor. I sold out Dernexes. I would rather be ended by your sword than someone else's. At least I know you have the humanity to spare me too much pain." There was a tremble in his voice. The cockiness was gone.

"If you tell us where Asag is hiding, then we may spare your life."

"I doubt you will have the authority to make that decision, slave-boy."

Enlil turned his wrist inwards so the weld was away from Nisroch's view.

 "It matters not anyway. I am as good as dead, and I owe him no loyalty. I will tell you where he is hiding."

To Tia's surprise, Enlil reached behind Nisroch and, in one fluid movement, cut the ropes tying his hands with a small knife. The traitor Caster stood up, rubbing his red wrists.

"Do not worry about me escaping," Nisroch added, his dark eyes fixed to the distance. "My staff is broken and I cannot run far. I pose no threat whatsoever."

"Lead the way."

****

The mouth of a cave came into view. It was a small little indent in the side of the rocky incline, with moss growing over the top and gravelly sand beneath. The stone walls changed from dark brown at the base to orange to sandy-white at the top.

Their footsteps echoed along the walls; Nisroch began to shuffle as fatigue and injuries took their toll. They could make out a figure lying slumped against the wall, a leg bent at an awkward angle. Enlil held up a hand, instructing Mommu and Tia to stay a little behind. One of the soldiers lit an oil lamp. Light bathed the tiny enclosure.