Mikel was forced to summon extra reserves of self-control to hold back an enraged growl at the two fellows who held information that might surely earn him a place in the history books as the greatest High Inquisitor that had ever graced the ranks of the Children. More important than that and for a better cause, it provided him with an opportunity to cut at the ranks of the two greatest blights on the world, other than the Shadow itself. What these men knew might be the key to destroying the White and Black Towers, exterminating these so-called Asha'man by the hundreds and permanently obliterating the witches from existence... if that was even possible anymore without the support and unity of all the nations in the world. That is not my problem though... he told himself, shoving away his apprehensions. It is the Lord Captain Commander's job to make agreements and mine to give him what information he requires.
"I have always been a very patient man," he explained coolly to Lain, walking back towards the Gaidin, with his disarmingly friendly smile returned as if it had never left. "But you must understand that this situation is most delicate. This... Asha'man... is a rabid dog, tamed or no... the effects of the drug will not last and I cannot feed him it indefinitely. I shall have to dispose of the lad quickly and efficiently," he whispered again, making certain that the young one would not here. Mikel knew that not all in the White Tower had yet accepted the Asha'man as a legitimate organization and it was quite possible that Lain was as contemptuous of a channelling male as he was of the Children of the Light. "I am afraid I can waste no more time with adhering to the prescribed stages of Questioning."
He backed away out of the tent and murmured a few words to the waiting guards, quiet enough that only the men he directed his orders at could possibly have heard and even those just barely. A few of the greener recruits gasped at his request but the veterans and experienced officers quickly set to work, fetching what he required with a calm, steady march with only the slightest hint that they were in any great hurry. Mikel allowed himself a small touch of pride at the cool discipline emanating from his guards; no other armed force in the world displayed such order and unity with the possible exception of the Seanchan. A worthy foe indeed, and one I look forward to testing in the Questioning Chambers... I can surely break one of these High Lords with enough time and the correct tools.
"Relax while you still may, gentlemen," he spoke, re-entering the tent with a smile less pleasant than he usually showed to prisoners. "When my men return, you will learn what it means to be put to the question." The wait was rather a long one, minutes trickling away while the guards in the room watched the Asha'man with obvious apprehension. In fact, all three looked ready to spit him with their swords at the hint of trouble and Mikel did not tell any of them to back away... the thought of stabbing the man seemed more and more the wise decision with each passing second. At last, the troops returned.
Two officers struggled in, each carrying a huge metal bucket apiece, steam rising from within in thick, hot jets, a forewarning of what was to come. A man strode at their head, the confidence in his eyes not quite concealing the obvious apprehension that Mikel could see clearly from the perspiration running down his face in streams and the creases of concern marring his usually smooth forehead. Savran was a Hand with a decade-long experience of Questioning behind, more so than anyone else in the camp. Still not a patch on my abilities of course, but when necessity calls...
"Set to work on the Asha'man, Lieutenant," he told the man, turning back towards the other bucket that had been set carefully beside Lain. Now the Gaidin would be able to see the contents held within, iron rods and pincers swimming in a pool of red-hot coals, heat enough to forge good steel. He did not pass the Asha'man over to Savran out of fear, though... Mikel knew who the real foe was... Lain waited with the same expression that he had held throughout the Questioning... calm, distant, aloof. "I will have my answers, Gaidin." The screams began moments later, as steaming poles were shoved deep into vulnerable flesh, sizzling and crackling with the sheer force of heat meeting with soft, tender skin.
xxxx
Gale felt the hot metal dig hard into his flesh. He screamed as he had never screamed before, his throat turning raw. Violent waves of pain coursed through him. He could smell his skin burning and dying as he thrashed trying to break free though the pincers were strongly closed onto the skin and in his drugged state his efforts were feeble. He arched with the pain, praying to die so this would stop, anything to end the pain. His whole body burned with pain. Then for an instant it stopped. He lay, panting before he spoke hoarsely.
'Light help me." It was a whisper but he put all of his strength into the small prayer. He shuddered as he breathed in and out in pants and gasps. His vision swam and he could see white figures standing in front of him. Sweat soaked him, seeping into all of his wounds stinging them with the salt. He thought he could see the faces of the men in front of him, looking pleased? He could not tell.
He thought he heard voices, but could not discern what was said. He wavered on the edge of consciousness, slipping into the black before being brought out by the pain. A fresh onslaught of pain pushed him over the brink and he fell into the black completely.
He floated there, the nightmares starting almost at once. Here, he was ravaged by a different sort of demon, one he also could not escape. Outside of the black his body shook, reflecting the mental pain. The power opened up to him in this, and whips of air and fire flew out from him, as if fighting off an invisible foe. The black was consuming him.
xxxx
Lain winced at the look on the Monster's face, one of pure rage almost akin to what he himself was feeling. As quickly as it had come, the emotion appeared to be mastered, replaced with the cool, charming smile Lain was fast growing to hate as much as the man who wore it.
"I have always been a very patient man..." he said calmly, without a hint of the feelings of moments before. "...dispose of the lad..." He wasn't surprised at this. Surely, the man near him was barely of age, but the Whitecloak filth would certainly see him as no better, if not worse, than an Aes Sedai.
"I am afraid I can waste no more time with adhering to the prescribed stages of Questioning." Light help me, he thought quickly. Shock registered at such a break from protocol, but it was distant, sliding off the surface of the Void. He would need every ounce of strength to get through what he knew was coming. He retreated into his body, further than before. Dimly, he noticed the Monster send for something. Something. I will not dwell on it, he told himself firmly. He pushed away his anger, his hatred... even his grief. Tension hung thick in the air, a feather to Lain. Lain was not the dangerous one. He almost felt sorry for the other imprisoned member of the tent, he was so young... but pushed the feeling away. He must be hard.
Steaming metal buckets were carried in, the men bearing them sweating. The Whitecloak at their head looked wary; why? Questions floated across the calm, and swiftly ignored. "Set to work on the Asha'man, Lieutenant," the Questioner snapped. As the Monster himself turned to him, Lain noticed what was in the bucket. Shuddering despite the Void, he closed his eyes, relaxing his body. "I will have my answers, Gaidin."
The first thrust of metal seemed painless, a slight pushing feeling accompanying it. Seconds later, searing pain raced through him. Screams ripped from his throat as he buried himself in the memories, clinging to sanity with tooth and nail. The scent of burnt meat seeped into his nose, sickening him as he arched his back. Eyelids squeezed tightly shut, he tried desperately to ignore the torments the Monster was wreaking upon his naked flesh. He prayed to the light for unconsciousness to come, for the black oblivion of death to swallow him and carry him into Mileni's waiting arms- but it did not come. Peace was denied him, and he screamed endlessly, his throat gurgling with blood.
A lull finally came after what seemed days of agony, and he hung limply, his resources spent. The Void had been abandoned long ago, thrown down in tatters, and only the memories of his Love's soft embrace had kept him from gibbering all he knew. His eyes still locked shut, he panted heavily, trying vainly to keep the pain at bay.
xxxx
Not for the first time, Mikel mercilessly suppressed the desire to pummel Lain with mindless kicks and punches, anything that would release his rage and frustration would be a welcome relief at that moment. Instead, he maintained his smile, only slightly feigned. Despite the icy barriers between them and the fact that this man had been in service to the Tower witches, the Inquisitor still maintained a grudging respect for the Gaidin, admiring his hardy resolve. This one would truly have made a formidable Hand with training... he might well have reached my own rank given enough time and experience. Yet Mikel knew Lain would be held back by his own intrinsic weaknesses... this one would surely be too distracted by his own feelings of remorse and compassion towards his prisoners. Guilt was the deadliest emotion in the torture chambers; anger could be focused into a lethal weapon, amusement could unbalance the experienced captive. Yet guilt served only as a distraction, holding back a man from what must be done. It was these thoughts that finally gave Mikel the key... to think he had been wasting his energies with physical torment when it was the mental aspects that would surely be this Gaidin's downfall.
"It is clear that the pincers will have no effect on you, yes...?" the Inquisitor spoke once more, smoothly covering the brief triumphant smile that flashed across his lips. "I truly marvel at your stolid nature, Lain... I must confess that I would almost certainly break at this stage of the questioning, if not earlier. It is perhaps fortunate for my own well being that our positions are not reversed, though I am sure you would not agree," he murmured with a sly grin as if sharing a particularly amusing private joke with the Gaidin. "Needless to say, I do not intend to let you live after what has come to pass between us in the last few hours. Your face would surely be a plague on even the most pleasant of my dreams and every moment I spend awake I would think of nothing else other than the day that you finally return seeking vengeance." Naturally, Mikel was speaking a pack of lies to Lain... the only truth within all the deception had been that the hard-eyed Gaidin would die. I do not fear death but nor will I sign my own death warrant by allowing him to live. "I only hope that you understand why I have done all this... out of necessity; I will find those who pull the strings within the ranks of the Shadow and I will pull them down, with or without your help. I would prefer that it be with."
Mikel gave no further warning before dragging the nearest serving girl up by her hair and unsheathing his belt knife, pressing naked steel to milky-smooth skin. I will have my answers Lain... you can clearly stand to watch your own body being gradually mutilated, piece by piece, but can you suffer the same happening to another person...? An innocent person, no less? A woman. The Amadician pushed down a thread of shame at what he had been lowered to and was shocked to find it there at all. You have no choice, he told himself firmly. Imagine the lives you will save and the Shadow-born atrocities prevent by your actions this night... it must be done. His thoughts were concrete in their resolve and the vague resonance of remorse that Mikel had felt for such a brief moment, quickly faded to nothing. His dark eyes hardened.
"Would you allow such a thing as this to happen, Lain?" he inquired without a tremor in his voice, ignoring the disgusted grunts of protest coming even from the ranks of his own Children. In the background, the Asha'man's boyish screams continued unabated, close enough to the sounds of a child in anguish to make for a cold, unnerving atmosphere. But Mikel would not relent. He pressed the sharp blade a little deeper into the woman's flesh, a single drop of blood falling like a bead of dew from the dagger's point. She whimpered pitifully but did not struggle, obviously retaining enough sense to realize such an attempt would only end in her certain death. "Do you think you could avoid moral guilt if I killed her, perhaps? What harm comes to this woman will be as much your fault as mine... I do this because you refuse to cooperate. Look at her... look at this life that you have so callously placed on the balance scales of fate." He pulled her head back a little further and again she squealed, moist tears of wretched fear and desperation just then beginning to run in torrents down her young, pretty face. "What is your name, girl? Have you a family? A husband?"
"Sahra Harazan, my Lord," she gasped after a few moments had passed, unable to raise her voice above a croaking whisper. "I have a family, sir... Jon is my husband... a good man and true, he would take so unkindly to my death, L-lord Inquisitor. And my children, Georg and Rachel... the girl is such a sweet one, sir... please my Lord, please don't-"Mikel twisted his black-gloved hands mercilessly in her hair to quiet that innocent voice, to shut the words out of his mind. He could not deny it now; the shame had returned and it was no longer a distant echo but almost powerful enough to overwhelm his determination and resolution to succeed. Nonetheless, his features remained outwardly uncaring, a purposely frenzied edge in the look he shot at Lain as if to suggest he truly was pushed to the end of his tether, to the point where he would slit a woman's throat. And I will if I must... I will.
"You can see the life you are destroying well enough, Gaidin," he spoke, forcing his hand to begin moving, the dagger sliding slowly and tortuously towards her vulnerable windpipe which if cut, could only be healed with the dark powers of the witches in their White Tower. "Now give me something... anything, man! A name... a whisper of the Shadow... I know that there are different levels of corruption within the Tower. I want to find those who have truly sworn their souls over to the Dark One." Again he spoke blasphemy, to suggest that any witch might not be a Darkfriend but given the circumstances he did not think any of the waiting guards would have noticed. "Tell me, Lain... speak and I will give you the death that I know you so greatly yearn." Silence. There was a speculative look in the Gaidin's eyes but still he stubbornly refused to open his mouth. "I am not asking you to betray your White Tower anymore, you blind fool!!" he growled impatiently. Mikel would not ask that of him again; Lain might even be hard enough to let the woman die if it meant defending the Aes Sedai that he was sworn to protect. "Give me any piece of information you can, even if you think it insignificant... speak truthfully and you may yet rest peacefully." Silence, yet again. The Lord Inquisitor sighed in grim defeat and accepted the inevitable. The serving girl had to die; even if Lain would not talk, he could not show a hint of weakness or hesitation in front of his men. His right hand moved again and this time the girl knew her fate for sure. Within the space of a split second, she would pass from this world and then with the Creator's blessing, perhaps she would be allowed to rest for all eternity in his Palm. Perhaps. The Light forgive me...
xxxx
Lain blearily gazed up at the man he had grown to recognize as the embodiment of everything he hated, trying to clear his mind enough to deal with whatever would be thrown at him next. The infuriating smile was still worn, the cold eyes still weighing and calculating him, searching unceasingly for a weakness. His stomach clenched with nausea as the Monster's face suddenly lit, the eyes bright with triumph. It was quickly concealed by the cool smile, but he had seen it. The question was, had he actually found a weakness?
"It is clear that the pincers will have not effect on you, yes...?" he asked slowly. A wave of pain washed over Lain suddenly, causing his ears to ring and vision to be blinded. When his eyes refocused on the Creature, he had moved on a little. "...needless to say, I do not intend to let you live..." If Lain could have moved, he would have nodded slightly. He had been expecting this all along- it came as no surprise, when it was what he had known would happen since... the incident... "...I only hope you understand..." Bastard, he though bitterly. Did he honestly expect Lain to forgive him? To understand?
Of course not, he replied to himself. Of course not.
The Creature snapped into movement, so suddenly that Lain found himself shocked by the speed. In contrast, his thoughts seemed to move like cool honey. The Monster had nabbed a serving girl, laying his blade at her throat. She was young, and pretty, having such smooth skin... Mileni's face flashed before his mind's eye. He found himself disbelieving- surely even a Whitecloak would not sink so low?
"Would you allow such a thing as this to happen, Lain?" he asked coldly, no emotion evident in his voice. Murmurs of discontent came from the other Whitecloaks? A line of red appeared on the silky skin as screams echoed in the background. I'm hallucinating, he thought suddenly. Yes, that's it, I'm delusional. The girl whined, tears marking tracks on her dust-stained cheeks, but it was distant to him. The Monster's mouth moved, but no sound was evident to Lain, no noise permeated his ears...
"...please don't-"Sound reached his ears suddenly. Not a hallucination, he told himself roughly. Black-gloved fingers were entwined in the woman's soft hair, the face that commanded the hand bright with zeal. The knife slid slowly across the woman's neck, to the centre and most vulnerable part, ready to cut...
"...speak and I will give you the death that I know you so greatly yearn..." Death. He would be given death. To be with Mileni again... His love... But he would have to give in. Pain filled his eyes as he looked at the girl, so young, but he could not. Would not. "I am not asking you to betray your White Tower anymore, you blind fool!" Too slow, his thoughts moved too slow... "Give me any piece of information you can, even if you think it insignificant... speak truthfully and you may yet rest peacefully." The Creature sighed, his right hand twitching. He would kill her... he was going to murder her... she was innocent... Time flowed slowly, every second an Age.
Mileni's face flashed before him again, no longer in his mind's eye, but on the body of the helpless woman. Helpless...
"NO!!" he shouted, a last effort from his raw throat. "Please... stop..." he begged, tears of grief and rage streaming down his cheeks. The knife stilled, and he heaved a sigh of relief. His life was not worth a woman's. Mileni, forgive me...
"There was an Aes Sedai..." he began, the words thick within his bloodied throat. "She... Aes Sedai cannot lie. They cannot..." He shook his head, the movement causing his torso to burn, but he ignored it. Just a few more moments... "Alisain Drogorna Sedai..." His voice grew soft. "She lied..." He didn't know how he still remembered that- he had long ago deemed it insignificant, but Mileni had always though the Black Ajah had a way to be release of the Oaths...
He glared into death's face, defiant to his last breath. "Let her go." He closed his eyes then, waiting for death to come, and with it, Mileni.