Gabranth was relieved to be out of the poorly designed Dalmascan armour. It felt better to finally cut his hair and be able to look his reflection in the eye without wanting to punch the mirror. No more would it be Basch staring back at him. How could a man fight with so much hair forever in his face?
But more than that, it was the pride of wearing the judicer's plate, not just Judge Gabranth but Judge Magister. He had reached the top and was the youngest to do so in a long time. Perhaps he ought to pay Basch a visit. Did the traitor not deserve his thanks?
The repairs at Nalbina had begun at last, the paling active once more and the lower floors of the fortress sealed to create a prison. Basch was being held in the oubliette, caged like a dog. More than he deserved.
His cage had already been lowered by the time Gabranth arrived in the room, water poured down the prisoner's throat to facilitate speech. The air in the dungeon was hot and dry and reeked of stale sweat and bodies past expiry.
"Do you remember daylight, Basch?"
"Brother, please…"
"What right have you to call me 'brother'? You threw away your ties of blood when you threw away our homeland."
"And so you betray me?"
"It is my duty to my country. I must protect the interests of Archadia."
Basch's eyes softened. "It is a weight off my mind to know you are well."
Gabranth snarled. "What do you care for my health? We were supposed to be a team, Basch. It was you and me against the world. When I needed you most, you ran and you left us for dead." He turned away, cursing himself for letting his anger rise to the surface.
"I am sorry."
"You're sorry?" His lip curled. "Sorry for what?"
"How is mother?"
"Dead." Gabranth slammed his fist into the bars. The chain screeched as the rusted links ground together, the cage rocking back and forth. Basch's gaze travelled upwards, as if searching for the weakness that would send him plummeting to his death in the darkness of the Barheim Passage below.
Gabranth shook his head, replacing his helmet as he backed away. He needed to be more careful. House Solidor wanted the Captain alive; he would not fail them now. "Brother or not, I would not just leave you to die, Basch."
Together with his soldiers, Gabranth headed from the room, pausing only long enough to hear Basch shout, "It's been good to talk again, little brother."
He hissed as the door slammed behind him. Perhaps when Basch was no longer useful, the Emperor would allow him to be the executioner.