Chapter 5: Trouble, Getting In

Joren woke up chained to a wall. His arms were stretched above his head and his feet were just barely touching the black marble floor. He was still a bit groggy, and so the situation didn't register until a man in a long black robe walked inside. His face was the same as Reginald's, although harder. Oh shit. Everything came back to him, so that he instinctively jerked his chain and struggled to free himself.

The man smiled. "I see you're awake. Good. We can start, then." He walked over to a table holding sharp-looking implements. Joren had a very bad feeling about this. His panic was amplified when the man came nearer, holding a knife with jagged edges. "Your… friend. The one in green. Unfortunately, he didn't make it. Unfortunately for you, that is, as I have need of information that only you can give me."

Joren felt a small ball of fear erupt in his stomach. It can't be. He's got to be lying. Neal wasn't… He schooled his features to hide his emotions and spit on the floor in front of the stranger. He didn't trust himself to speak.

The stranger just laughed. He held the knife in his right hand while he choked Joren with the left. "I was hoping you would… not cooperate." Slowly he cut a line on Joren's left cheekbone.

Joren closed his eyes and ground his teeth together at the pain. He thought he was still in shock because the image that came to his mind was of Keladry's. That… Lump. Yeah. That Lump who withstood pain without complaint. He didn't have a clue how Kel did it, though, and thoughts about her ultimately led to thoughts of Neal. Man, she'll be furious when she finds out I got her best friend killed. He thought to himself in a daze.

He flinched as the stranger made shallow dots on his torso. "I only want to know who hired you to spy on me, boy. We're just playing now, but if you refuse to speak…" The man allowed his words to trail off suggestively, dragging the tip of the bloody implement gently across Joren's throat. "After all, no one would come and save you. Boys like you are indispensable, even one as pretty as you."

Joren was getting ready to spit again when the door opened and Reginald came in. He was still dressed in the robe and tunic he wore for the party. He looked at Joren and there was nothing in his face to indicate he ever desired the boy. "I talked to one of the guests about him." He made a gesture towards the pale boy in chains. "He's supposed to be on our side."

"A double agent?" The twin brother arched his eyebrow. "Aren't you too young for such a dangerous profession?"

Joren swallowed. He was recognized by many at the party, and he didn't know what would happen if he was declared a spy for the progressives. More likely, his father would disown him on some pretense. That is, if he survived this interrogation.

Reginald sat down on a red gilted chair. "What could you possibly gain from killing him, brother? You might lose an ally, instead; his father is supposedly a very important man in our cause. We don't need to know who sent him, just that it's those damn progressives. It may be he's working for them for money. Perhaps he can work for us as well."

The man frowned, looking at Joren. "Is that true boy? Would you be loyal to us for money?"

Never! Joren thought to himself, with Neal in mind. Instead he sneered at them. "Depends on how much you'd give me. And how well you'll treat me from now on." He jangled his chains and arched his eyebrow.

However, the man stared into Joren's eyes and snorted. "You're lying, aren't you? The son does not always follow the father's footsteps."

Reginald snorted. "Give me the boy, Robert. I still have to pay him back for magicking me." He stood up and traced a finger through Joren's wounds in a mockery of a caress. "Besides, we should have some fun with him before we kill him."

The now named stranger ran his fingers through Joren's silky hair and pulled. Not the hair. Joren thought as he gritted his teeth.

"Perhaps later. For now I want a name."

Reginald didn't look disappointed, instead leering at Joren. "You have better speak, boy, before my brother cuts out your tongue." The knife was waved in his face, spraying droplets of blood all over.

Joren only had a few seconds to think. "Lady Alanna." He knew this Roger would know he spoke the truth, and thought the Lioness could surely handle any attacks from these men.

"Hmm. Of course. The… harlot who killed father would feel threatened. She would have taken steps against us sooner or later." Robert was thinking aloud.

"She is one of the greatest obstacles to the throne, brother mine." Reginald added. "But what could she do against our plan? There is no way any word will have reached her."

"Still, if she suspects, I want her silenced as soon as possible."

"We can talk about this later, Robert. If you won't let me have the boy, there was someone else at the party that will do just fine. I think his name is Marek." Reginald said with a pout. He brushed his thumb against Joren's lower lip. "A pity, darling." He addressed the chained boy.

Robert nodded in exasperation to his brother. "Alright. Have someone send a message, but keep your activities inside the bedroom, and I will assign guards. Just in case." Reginald left without a backward glance, and Joren was left alone with Robert who was testing the sharpness of a surgical instrument. His dark eyes were cold and predatory as they stared right at his prey: Joren.

The pain was just about to begin.