16th Day of Coldeven, 565 CY
Headquarters of the Emerald Serpent, Willip, Furyondy
"PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
Tadoa had not expected the scream to erupt from him so suddenly, so unexpectedly. Certainly, the young elf knew that no one could hear it.
No one who cared, that is.
He had heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the closed door and knew that someone would be entering the chamber soon. Tad didn't know who would it be but he was very certain that whoever it was would have no intention of helping him.
The door opened and Dangerous Hands came in.
The monk glanced over briefly at the child strapped down, spread-eagled, on the large stone slab. No expression showed on his face as he leaned over Tadoa, checking the metal plate.
About a foot square, the piece of metal had a small, circular hole in the center, from which a flexible tube made out of some kind of translucent fabric protruded. Small barbed hooks, all currently lodged securely in the elf's bare chest, surrounded the perimeter of the metal square. Although there was a constant pain, it was nothing compared to when the hooks had been inserted, one at a time.
Tad closed his eyes at the memory. The perversity of being tortured and then that of a healing spell being cast upon him to heal the wounds and close the skin, with the hooks still attached, and the end of the tube resting against his chest.
That healing spell had been cast by the Emerald Serpent himself.
Tad opened his eyes again. Dangerous Hands was now checking the other end of the five foot-long tube, which was currently held up by a vise attached to a worktable of some kind placed just off to the right. The very end of the tube sported a nozzle, which was currently inserted into an empty glass vial. Other alchemical equipment littered the table's surface. Tadoa still had no idea what the purpose of any of this was.
And he knew he didn't want to know.
Tad couldn't help but see the four long meat hooks hanging down from the ceiling above him; their curved tips maybe five feet above his head. Something else he didn't know the purpose of. Perhaps for intimidation only, he thought.
That thought gave him little comfort. Tadoa felt very, very intimidated.
Dangerous Hands was now looking over Tad again, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He had shaved off his peach stubble, but was still clad in the same simple clothes the child had last seen him in. The elf looked at the human's hands. The monk's so-called "Dangerous" hands appeared ordinary in every way; perhaps a bit more calloused than most, but that was it.
The elf saw the monk glance down. Tadoa closed his eyes again, this time in embarrassment, willing the tears not to come. Successfully, this time. Although elf-born, Tad had spent so much time around humans that he shared their modesty about nudity. He knew that keeping him naked was simply to make him feel more helpless.
Again, the knowledge helped little. Tadoa was helpless, and both he and his captors knew it.
There was no lasciviousness or desire in the monk's eyes as his eyes roamed all over Tad's body. Perhaps the image had arisen from the ever-present meat hooks hanging over his head, but Tad couldn't help but think that Dangerous Hands looked like a butcher studying a cow carcass, making sure he knew exactly where he was going to make his first cut.
The battleaxe leaning twenty feet away against the far wall of the chamber did little to dispel that idea.
Dangerous Hands ignored the weapon however, as he took a grimy cloth from the worktable and began slowly to wipe between Tadoa's legs. The child grew sick at the remembrance that he could no longer urinate or defecate in privacy. It had been some time since he had done either. He had not had any food or water for at least a day. He believed it had been about one day since he had awoken in this chamber. No one who had seen him had responded in any way to the elf's screams or his pleas for mercy, the intermittent silence field around him notwithstanding.
It differed somewhat from the magical fields of silence that Tadoa was familiar with in that the Emerald Serpent seemed to be able to moderate it at will, by the simple act of raising or lowering his right arm.
The elf swallowed and looked back at Dangerous Hands, who was finishing up now. He felt at least marginally cleaner now. The monk tossed the soiled cloth back on the worktable and picked up a small mug. He dipped this into a pail of water sitting on the floor next to the worktable, then walked over to Tad, who despite his best efforts to maintain his dignity had already raised his head up as far as it could go at the sight of that cool, refreshing clear liquid. The child had forgotten how parched his throat was. The monk was lowering the cup to Tad's lips when the elf suddenly clamped his lips shut and looked away.
How stupid can I be? he thought. Whatever that is, it's not pure water. Poison, or some kind of drug.
Apparently sensing his thoughts, Dangerous Hands glanced down at the mug, and then back at Tadoa. What might have been one-tenth of a smile crossed his face.
"You think poison?" the monk asked in a small voice that managed to sound both soft and gravelly at the same time. His eyes narrowed.
"You not be that lucky. Drink."
Tad hesitated.
Dangerous Hands grabbed Tad's face with his left hand. He squeezed his cheeks expertly, popping open the child's mouth without any resistance. He poured about half a cup of what Tadoa fervently hoped was water down his throat, the left hand moving down to stroke the elf's throat, ensuring that Tad could not resist swallowing. The child almost choked, but Dangerous Hands slowed the stream of water so that Tadoa could finish off the water.
The monk replaced the cup as Tadoa lay back down on the table. The child was tired. He just wanted this to end. He had no idea what the purpose of any of this was. Were they simply planning to torture and kill him? That seemed so foolish, so pointless.
He looked again at Dangerous Hands and decided to try bravery. Certainly, his cowardice thus far had netted him little.
"You know," Tad said. "My friends will come for me. Aslan has vast powers. He'll find me, even in here."
The monk, who had again been examining the equipment on the worktable, glanced over at the young elf.
"Your god not be able to find you in here," he stated matter-of-factly.
A noise from without made both Tad and Dangerous Hands look towards the door at the same time. The approaching footsteps had been very light. Tadoa realized that the monk's hearing must be at least as good as his own.
The elf that called himself the Emerald Serpent swept through the doorway.
The Serpent was wiry and lithe, his green robes swirling around his body as he moved, almost of their own accord. He had narrow hips and a long neck. The jade dragon design embroidered upon the robes reminded Tad of a robe Tojo had once owned- a kimono, he believed it was called. The samurai had lost it some time ago; Tad couldn't exactly remember where or when.
The Serpent's long blond hair cascaded over his face. One green eye, somewhat more yellow-green than that of most elves, peered at him through the strands. The Serpent tossed his head, sending his locks cascading back down over his shoulders and gave his captive a tight, closed-lips smile.
The older elf was holding a small, leather bound container that might have been a glove box. He laid this gently upon the worktable. Tadoa saw Dangerous Hand's eyes flicker to the lock on the box with a whiff of curiosity, which vanished as he stepped away from the stone slab and faced his master squarely, his hands clasped behind his back.
The Emerald Serpent looked upwards. In the very center of the room, a globe of continual light hung. The elf then said something Tadoa couldn't understand, a magical phrase no doubt. The globes white light turned green and diminished, until it was about as dim as dusk. The Emerald Serpent then turned back to Dangerous Hands.
"He has bought what you hired him-"
The Emerald Serpent raised his left hand in a warning gesture, cutting the monk off, then looked back over his shoulder at Tadoa. He lowered his right hand, and the young elf was engulfed in silence. The Serpent turned his attention back to his underling.
Tad was angry, and he didn't even know why. He was nothing more than an utterly helpless prisoner. Surely, they had no attention of letting him live. Why was the Serpent being so damn secretive? The child gritted his teeth. He couldn't hear, and the Serpent had his back to him, but he could still see Dangerous Hand's face. The monk was standing about ten feet away from where Tad lay. In the green dim light, his lips were hard to perceive.
But not impossible. Elrohir's father had taught the child the art of lip-reading, and Tadoa had often used it to spy on patrons' conversations back at the Brass Dragon when he was bored. He couldn't catch all of what the monk was saying, but he got some.
"What use have we for that?"
A shake of the head. "Prophecies; bad things to be involved in."
"I do not trust that one. He could be dangerous."
"The last message from Sbalt states that the Outlaw lair will be ready soon."
"One more thing, master. Last night, I spoke with the Mammal of the Lake. He is hungry, and demands we sacrifice to him, as per our contract."
There was along pause, as the monk absorbed some final instructions from his superior, and then he bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.
The Serpent stood in thought for a moment, and then slowly turned around and came back to Tadoa. Bending over the younger elf, he slowly raised his right hand and sounds came back to the child's ears.
They stared at each other. Tadoa noticed the skin on the Serpent's throat. It seemed dry, almost scaly. He looked again into the older elf's eyes, searching.
After a few moments, the Serpent spoke in elven. His voice was smooth and silky, the words flowing gently into Tadoa's ears.
"Hello again, young Tadoa of Rolex."
Tad did not respond.
What looked like a momentary flash of compassion passed through the Serpent's eyes.
"I'm sure you do not believe me, Tad, and I will not ask you to, but I do regret what has happened. It has been decided by others that you should be brought here. We need information from you, and I have been chosen to extract the information, as well as- other things," he finished, his hand idly playing with the tube sticking out of the boy's chest.
The child still did not respond, except form a slight narrowing of his eyes. He hated anyone other than Elrohir and his friends calling him "Tad." He continued to stare directly into the Serpent's eyes, despite the palpable waves of fear that were washing over his body.
The elder elf's expression remained neutral. His right hand moved down to touch Tad's cheek with a feather-light but icy cold touch, while the left slowly came back into view, holding a slender black wand he had pulled from a pocket within his robes. Tad didn't think the Serpent was wearing anything under those robes, but he said nothing.
"I can torture you, young Tadoa, but I cannot make you trust me. The latter could avoid the former. Will you trust me?"
Tad considered. It certainly seemed like an option, and he had precious few of those in his current condition. Perhaps he could play along, stall for time- or perhaps the Emerald Serpent really was telling the truth. He'd seen stranger things in his day. And he was a fellow elf, after all. Just like…
Just like…
Tadoa felt something besides fear wash over him. He pulled his head away from the Emerald Serpent, while continuing to stare into those eyes. What he was thinking was no more than a guess, and even if he was right, it wasn't much of a trump card to play.
But he decided he wasn't going to die a victim.
"Forget it, Serpent. Your charm spell didn't work."
The Serpent assumed a look of affront. "I have cast no-"
"And you can stop speaking in elven."
The yellow-green eyes stared hard at Tadoa. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the child's declaration in Common. The Serpent maintained his tone of wounded pride, but now it was mixed with suspicion, and some curiosity.
"Perhaps this is only my pride speaking, but I do not think any other language would suffice when speaking with-"
"You're not an elf."
Tadoa's words hung in the air for a few moments. The Serpent kept his right hand level, but the left hand, bearing the wand, came closer now. The faux pride had vanished, and only a cold curiosity remained.
"And why do you say that, young Tadoa?"
"Because," Tadoa replied, trying with all his heart to keep his voice level, "I've seen you twice now. I'm an elf, and yet I can do something that I've yet to see you do."
The Serpent's eyebrows rose, and he leaned in even closer to Tad. Their faces were now perhaps two feet apart.
"And what is that, my dear boy?"
Tadoa swallowed hard. "Blink."
The Emerald Serpent stared at him for a few moments.
A yellow, nictating membrane covered each of his eyes for a moment and then withdrew.
As he straightened up, he again grinned at the boy.
"You're very intelligent- for an elf."
Tadoa let his hatred sweep him along. "And you're not all that stupid- for a snake."
The Emerald Serpent's grin vanished as though it had never existed. The wand shot out to point directly at the child, and he hissed another arcane phrase.
Tad exploded.
Never, never in his life had he felt such pain. It encompassed every square inch of his body at once. His skin, his muscles, his bones, even his hair seemed as it were burning, melting him away. Even screaming was difficult, because inhaling brought with it additional pain.
But he managed it.
An altogether different grin spread over the Serpent's face as he watched the young elf's body spasm.
Had he retained the presence of mind to do so (which he did not), Tad would have been amazed that he could have survived more than five seconds of this, yet the pain continued. It was everywhere, above and below him. He was swimming in a sea of liquid agony. Even the pain itself gave him nothing to focus on. One instant he was burning to ash, the next freezing into an icy corpse. Then he was being torn apart, and the next instant crushed into a bloody pile of assorted organs.
The Emerald Serpent watched all of this. His malicious grin intact, his right hand began to conduct a symphony of torment, waving up and down in the air. The boy's screams were muted, and then returned to full volume. The left hand, holding the wand like a baton, kept time to the horrific tempo he was creating. Sharp up-and-down gestures brought a "skipped" screaming, while a low-but-not-too-low plummet made the cries of agony almost like delicate whispers.
Eventually, the "elf" raised his right hand and turned away from Tadoa. He bent over the vial on the worktable.
Tad continued to writhe. The pain had been so intense that even its imprint, its recent memory was too much for his body to endure. His eyes saw, but his brain could not process, a thick, dark gray liquid slowly move through the tube from his chest, and drip into the vial.
The Serpent had opened the lock on the small case he had carried on. Tad saw small vials of powders and what looked like very small paint brushes, but he was still unable to attach any meaning to what he saw. All he could do was close his eyes and wait while the pain receded slowly.
Very slowly.
Tadoa had no idea how long he had lain there, but when he realized that he could think again, he opened his eyes again and turned to the right, The Supreme Serpent was engaged in conversation with a human male of about forty-plus years of age, with a weather-beaten look about him. His clothes were nondescript, as was his sallow face, dull brown eyes and balding pate. He was handing over what looked like a tied bundle of horsehair to the Serpent.
Tad realized abruptly that the silence field was again in place, but both individuals were to his side. Almost without realizing it, Tadoa began reading their lips again.
Human: "There you are."
Emerald Serpent: "Well done, Nodyath."
Nodyath! Tad thought. He's polymorphed, but for what?
ES: "Dangerous Hands will pay you on your way out."
The young elf thought furiously as Nodyath nodded. He's just come back from some kind of mission for the Serpent. A successful one, apparently. He must have been among people who would have recognized his true form. He glanced again at the pile of horsehair now in the Serpent's hand and shuddered. That's from one of our horses, he thought. I know it. He must have gone back to the Brass Dragon. The elf's eyes grew wide as he remembered Nodyath's threat. Dear Corellon, he prayed, please don't let him-
N: "I'd just as soon have killed them both, but they're really on guard there now, and they have more spellcasters among them then the Elrohir party."
ES: (Laying the hair on the worktable) "The hair of his children."
N: "What?"
ES: "Oh, just part of something that's either a prophecy- or a recipe."
Nodyath abruptly glanced over at Tadoa, causing the young elf to freeze in panic. He couldn't look away. He couldn't even lip-read what the Serpent was saying, but he could make out Nodyath's response.
Aslan's counterpart shrugged and bit his lip.
N: "I could care less. You own him now, not me. Do what you want with him."
The psionic turned and quickly headed towards the door, then abruptly spun around and glared at the Emerald Serpent, who was raising his left hand in a gesture of peace.
ES: "l mean that with all sincerity. Congratulations to you and Talat."
N: (eyes narrowing) "How did you know?"
ES: "Not all of us need a helm of telepathy, Nodyath."
Nodyath stood there for a moment, and then with a final glance at Tad, left the room.
The Serpent looked back at the child, who quickly averted his eyes. The "elf" turned his back again to Tad, after gesturing with his right hand to raise the silence. He began doing something with the items contained in the case.
Tadoa again stared at his back. The thought suddenly appeared in his mind that the Serpent was going to torture him again; and then all his attempts at heroism, his efforts to keep his dignity, everything that he ever held dear went out the window.
"Please," the young elf croaked. "Don't hurt me again. I'll do anything you want me to. I'll tell you anything you want to-"
He cut off suddenly, trying to hold back a scream as the Supreme Serpent's tongue landed on his chest.
Even as he bucked and strained against the straps holding him down, Tad began to realize that it was a fake, a prosthesis of some kind. The elf looked up again at the Emerald Serpent, but that was even worse.
Yellow eyes with vertical black slits were staring down at him. A thin, forked tongue darted out momentarily. The area around the Serpent's neck and shoulders was covered in tiny scales. The creature smiled as it put away the makeup case.
"It feels good not to have to pretend. Doesn't it, Tadoa of Rolex?"
Shame, Tadoa's constant companion, cam upon him again. Almost as bad as the pain, because they were now working together against him and Tad knew that, despite whatever horrid kind of monster the Emerald Serpent really was, he was still going to do anything he asked of him.
I'm sorry, he thought to his friends, I thought I was as strong as you people, but I'm not. May your gods and mine forgive me.
Tadoa asked him, leaning forward again. "What is it you really want of me?"
The Serpent assumed a thoughtful pose, then looked down at the elf lying beneath him.
"I do believe, young Tadoa, that if I remove those bonds, you will not make any move to get off of that table."
Tad leaned back, closing his eyes in gratitude, imagining the wonderful feeling of being able to flex his limbs again. "No," he whispered, then spoke in a somewhat louder voice. "I promise you I won't."
There was no response.
Tadoa opened his eyes.
The Emerald Serpent was standing over him, holding the battleaxe in his hands, which were raised high over his head.
"I wasn't looking for a promise, you lip-reading mammal," he hissed. "I was stating a fact."
Tadoa tried to scream, but the silence descended along with the axe.