The light filtering in through the only opening in the dark cylinder was barely enough to illuminate a matchbox, little yet a large chamber like the cell. Though it was more a hole than a cell, cut out of the raw stone of the western mountains beneath the foundations of Tor Gabriel, Gideon's western most fortress.
The fortress sat high in the western mountains, providing protection both for the pass that burrowed through the mountains below it and the hills and plains to the east. And the hole that was a cell dug almost twenty metres into the ground beneath it.
Into that hole a man had been thrown, bound in chains, by ten strong men. There they had left him to rot, giving neither food nor water. That had been five years ago.
"Hey! Van Joss!" the burly guard shouted into the rusted iron grating that sealed the top of the cylinder closed from the outside.
"Are you still alive, you traitorous bastard?"
When no sound returned, the guard turned with a shrug to the massive man in black that stood beside him, his face unreadable as he stared at the grating.
"Looks like your prisoner is dead, Kala Uthon. Sorry."
The bearish man slowly shook his head.
"You are mistaken, soldier," Uthon rumbled with narrowed eyes. "He is not dead."
The guard, unshaven and rumpled, snorted in disbelief, thinking himself big enough in his stupidity to rival the giant Kala and thus able to speak with some disrespect.
"Believe me, Kala, when you are thrown into a hole without food or water for five years, you usually end up dead!" His pig-like eyes flickered over the big man and he hastily reassessed his position when he noted the man's size wasn't weighted in any way by flab or excess flesh. As the guard's was. Perhaps they weren't so even after all.
"Meaning no offense, of course, sir."
"The only thing that offends me, soldier, is your ignorance," Uthon replied in a soft yet dangerous voice, making both the soldier and the knot of officials at the Master's back shift uneasily. "For there are things that will keep a man alive when food and water are scarce." His dark eyes came up to stab into the guard's watery blue ones, hidden as they nearly were in his puffy face. And the fat man began to shake with fear under the weight of that gaze as he realized his folly.
"Hate can be meat and milk to one determined enough. Revenge: bread and wine!" The powerful Kala took a step forward.
"Open it!"
The grate was levered back with the help of two large iron pry bars before a long rope ladder was thrown down into the darkness.
"Do you really think he's alive?" Brin stepped up behind Uthon to whisper softly in the big man's ear.
The Master's answer came quickly. But not in the big man's words. Instead a low murmur of astonishment swept through the small crowd when, without warning or sound a dirty hand appeared out of the hole to grasp the next rung of the rope ladder. Uthon felt a small smile crack his grim visage.
And that smile grew wider at the continued nervous shifting behind him as a slender form, both pale from the lack of sun and dark from the dirt and grime caked on its skin, clambered free of the hole to slowly look around the square-shaped chamber at the cylinder's crown. From out of the dirt-encrusted face, half-covered by thick, matted hair, a pair of brilliant green eyes shone forth. They were so bright, they looked like twin emeralds in a bed of charcoal, glittering in the pale light of mid-afternoon.
Those bright eyes, intense and powerful, quickly focused on Uthon as the bear-like man stepped forward. The Kala inclined his head slightly in greeting, a gesture the dirt-covered creature didn't return. Instead it speared him with its brilliant gaze, unwavering and cold.
If Uthon was affected by that look, he didn't show it as he focused his own dark and intense gaze on the creature's withered form.
"Commander Nethal?" he said softly and, looking somewhat timid, Brin stepped forward to unroll a small scroll. She cleared her throat and began to read, her voice quavering slightly with her own anxiety.
"Colonel van Joss. By order of the Conclave and the Supreme Commander of the Gideon Military, you are hereby released into the custody of Kala Shef tel Uthon, Master of the Order of Grim." Her hands began to shake as she doggedly went on.
"Your sentence of life without parole is heretofore suspended upon review of the success of your mission. Until such review is completed, you are hereby exiled from all Gideon territories, protectorates and principalities under threat of immediate death if you return. Outside of these boundaries, however, you will be considered a free man."
"Free?" the being named Van Joss hoarsely croaked, the bright green eyes stabbing at Brin as she rolled the small scroll back up.
"Yes," General Eben replied, stepping from the small group of officials to gaze at Van Joss's withered form. "Free, but only outside of Gideon. We will take you to the capital to finish the necessary documents after which we will escort you to the outskirts of Nerun Drell where the Kala's men will take custody of you."
Abruptly the general's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"And know you this now, Van Joss. Any, and I repeat any attempt to escape, attack or otherwise make good on any of your threats voiced against the Conclave during your trial and I will personally make sure you are dead shortly thereafter. So don't be a fool; go with the Kala and live, if at least for a few more days."
Uthon glanced at Eben, his expression thoughtful. There seemed to be some familiarity between these two that he wasn't aware of before. Interesting. Then he was looking back at Van Joss.
"Do you understand all that has been said to you this day, colonel?" he asked carefully, his eyes narrowing as he studied the cadaverously thin criminal. The brilliant green eyes flickered his way for a brief moment before returning their hard gaze to Eben.
"I understand," it rasped.
"Sergeant Major!" Eben barked and a broad-shouldered, hard-faced woman marched into the chamber, heavily armed and armored in breastplate and chainmail. The newcomer snapped a crisp salute, her eyes hard beneath the helm of her helmet.
"General, sir!" she said smartly, standing stiffly at attention in front of Eben as the general returned the salute.
"Sergeant, take custody of the prisoner and escort him to his waiting transportation to the capital," Eben grimly commanded, all the while staring hard at Van Joss. For his part, the lean prisoner returned the look, his green eyes not wavering a hair from their blazing place on her face.
"Yes, sir!" the sergeant major barked her reply before raising her voice slightly. "Corporal! Prison detail!"
"Yes, Sergeant Major, sir!" another woman, somewhat younger than the grizzled master sergeant but no less hard looking, cried from the chamber's entrance before she led in a squad of heavily armed soldiers, both men and women, the lot of them marching in perfect parade ground unison. Again Uthon found it interesting that there wasn't a commissioned officer amongst them.
As the soldiers marched smartly towards the prisoner, the veteran non-com drew her sword, a heavy, serviceable weapon and joined them as they stopped in front of the prisoner's withered form. Still, for all that he had gone through, Van Joss stood stiffly at attention as if he was standing on the parade grounds himself.
"Colonel van Joss, sir," the sergeant major said in formal tones as she came to attention before him, respectfully saluting him with her sword. "If you would please come with us, sir."
"I will, Sergeant Major," Van Joss hoarsely replied, his ragged voice as formal as the non-com had addressed him.
"Very good, sir," she said with a final salute with her sword. Then it was being returned to its sheath as she pivoted tightly on her booted heel. Then, with the soldiers forming tight ranks around Van Joss, she led the small party out of the chamber as the officials looked on. Horror was on most of their faces. Only Uthon wore an expression of satisfaction, Brin one of trepidation. 'I can only hope this works out for all of us!' she thought as Van Joss and his escort neared where General Eben still stood.
As Van Joss marched past the general, he turned his head slightly.
"This isn't over, general," he hissed and Eben's head snapped around as if on a string, her mouth writhing as she prepared her retort.
But he was already out of the chamber before her tongue came free enough to snarl a reply. So the lean general had to bite her tongue in frustration instead, staring after the cadaverously thin man with open hatred in her eyes.
For his part, Uthon almost laughed out loud as he carefully watched the almost hidden exchange. 'yes, he will do,' he thought darkly as they began to file out of the chamber on the heels of the escort.
'He will do perfectly!'