Hosts Revealed
Light had barely begun to leak over the horizon when Rhapsody and Omet were up and preparing to leave once again. They were gone and following Achmed's trail before so much as a sliver of the sun caressed the edge of the world. As they rode, the sun climbed and Rhapsody hummed an aubade quietly while she concentrated more on the movements of her husband ahead of her.
The distance was great between them now and despair was becoming difficult for her to shake off. Whoever had him did not stop during the night and had nearly doubled the distance between them.
Awareness slowly crept upon Achmed as he continued to very painfully bounce against the saddle below him. His ribs were in excruciating pain and breathing was becoming more and more difficult. He didn't think that his lungs had been punctured by his broken ribs because it wasn't a struggle to draw breath, just incredibly painful.
Remembering what had happened the last time his captor had known he was awake, Achmed decided it would be best to play dead for now. He knew that he was in no shape or position to even attempt to escape. Feeling more helpless than he had ever felt before, he lay there, draped over the racing horse, wondering how he was going to get out of this one.
Then he felt it, a slight flicker that he hadn't even thought of till then; Rhapsody's heartbeat was following him. There was no mistaking it; she was definitely on his trail. She was not matching speed and continued to fall back, but she was there and working her way to him.
A small smile pulled at his lips as he thought about how ironic this situation was. How many times had he been the one following after when Rhapsody had been captured? It had always been his job to save her, and now she was racing to save him.
Now, knowing that help was on its way, he relaxed slightly and turned his thoughts to pondering who it was that had captured him and where they might be going. He knew that they were heading in the direction of the Nain land. But why would he be taken to the Nain? True they hadn't gotten along in the past, but this seemed a bit much.
Of course there seemed to definitely be some kind of F'dor behind all of this so past disagreements with the Nain probably had nothing to do with this kidnapping. So the question still remained, who was it that had him, and why were they going towards the Nain lands?
A small voice seemed to be whispering at the back of Achmed's mind as he thought this over that he didn't want to listen to. The voice kept reminding him that Meridion had been invited to visit the Nain. He had told them that he was going to be traveling there at about this time, but Achmed had never sensed him leave the palace or pass through his lands.
He tried to stop himself from putting his thoughts together for he saw where this was leading. Either Meridion had never left the palace when he said he was going to, or this was Meridion that had captured him. Unfortunately, the latter seemed to make the most sense.
Meridion would, undoubtedly, have access to both his father's sword and mist cloak, if he hadn't outright inherited them. They were obviously heading towards the Nain kingdom, and at the moot, Meridion had been hanging around the Nain quite a bit. If it was a Nain that was the host to the F'dor, then it would have been easy for him to ensnare Meridion as a Thrall during that time, especially that night before Meridion had become the official Lord Cymrian. Finally, this Thrall seemed to be much stronger than most in that he was putting up a fight against his F'dor controller. Very few people that Achmed knew he would ever suspect as being strong enough for this, and Meridion was one of those people.
But then the question remained, why hadn't Meridion foreseen that he would be taken as a Thrall and avoided it? And then the answer to this new puzzle came to Achmed. Meridion had been unable to foresee past the moot. If he had been made a Thrall during the moot, then he would have had no warning that it was going to happen until it was too late.
Achmed's heart sank as he thought what this would do to Rhapsody when and if she ever caught up with them. She would be completely unable to fight her son, no matter if she saw him as a Thrall or not. The hold on Meridion was going to have to be broken before anything could be done and Achmed had no way of telling this to Rhapsody before she reached him.
Wondering what he could possibly do to warn her that her own son was a Thrall, Achmed felt the horse begin to slow as the rider became hesitant. Achmed could feel Meridion; for now there was no doubt that it was him, pulling back at the reigns and attempting to spur the horse on at the same time. Meridion was fighting against the F'dor once again.
Achmed wanted nothing more than to say something to him, to help connect with Meridion as he struggled against the demon, but the gag was still in place and he was completely unable to say a word to the man. So he lay there, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Meridion would be able to break the hold on his own. The situation began to look promising as the horse came to a stop before Meridion steered the horse facing the opposite direction, back the way they had come. But then the F'dor took over again and turned the horse back the way they had been heading. And a struggle ensued for a few moments as the rider turned the horse in circles.
Achmed could hear as Meridion muttered under his breath, trying to tell the demon in his head to go away. Then, there was complete silence as the horse stood, facing towards the Nain, with Meridion shaking with strain in the saddle. They just sat there like that for what felt like an eternity to Achmed. And just as the king began to think that maybe Meridion really could beat this F'dor, the horse lurched as Meridion dug his heals into its sides and they were racing off once again. Meridion gave no sign of struggle anymore, the demon had won the stand off and they continued on their way to meet the F'dor that was controlling him.
Several hours later, as the sun began to set over the horizon, the horse once again came to a stop as Meridion jumped down. "I know you're awake, so don't even pretend you're not," the hollow voice said to Achmed.
This didn't change Achmed's behavior in the least bit. He had been remaining unmoving and completely silent for several hours, trying to seem like he was still knocked out, but then strain, exhaustion, and pain won over and kept him from even wanting to move or make a sound. Every muscle and bone ached in his body from the horrible position that he had been forced to be jostled around in for the last two days and nights.
Meridion reached up and hulled Achmed off the horse by his hands once again and proceeded to drag the exhausted Dhracian through a tunnel entrance that was near by. As the light of the world faded behind them, Achmed realized that they had reached the Nain kingdom and were now entering it. The Nain were a people who lived deep underground in subterranean caves, much like the one he was now being dragged into. These caves, it was said, were very extensive and could become a complete maze of passage ways and dead ends. By the time Rhapsody got there, she may never be able to find him in the labyrinth of the tunnels.
After some ways of dragging Achmed along the tunnel floors, Meridion stopped and changed tactics. He bent down and lifted Achmed off of the ground, throwing his body over both his shoulders and carrying him further and deeper into the dark tunnels.
Achmed had to beat down his urge to put up a fight. He wanted nothing more than to battle his way out of the situation, but that was impossible. He recognized that, in his current condition, he would not have a chance against the demon controlled man who was carrying him. Tied, in pain, injured, gagged and still shaking off the drugs used to abduct him in the first place, it would only serve to deplete his energy for a later rescue if he were to try and escape now.
But this position of helplessness was something that he very rarely found himself in. He was the one who always had a way out, who could deal with any situation put before him. The times where he had been this helpless he could count on one hand. He was a man of action, not inaction.
And so, battling with pain, pride, and fear, Achmed was taken deep into the caves, through a maze of twists and turns, before finally being brought to one very large, dimly lit cavern. The floor of the cavern seemed to drop off, just past the tunnel entrance that Meridion had stepped through. A crude stair case was cut into the side of the drop off, which led to the leveled floor below.
The roof was also much higher than the tunnels which they had been traveling along. In the center of the room the distance between ceiling and floor must have been something like 80 to 100 feet.
Attached to the ceiling was a strange metal hook which held a chain in it that dangled nearly to the floor below. The other end of the chain ran along the ceiling and came down the side wall to connect with some type of wench devise.
Achmed barley had a moment to take sight of the whole room in before Meridion began to descend the staircase to the surface below. As they went, Achmed noticed for the first time that there was another figure standing below, near where the end of the chain hung. The stench of F'dor nearly overwhelmed the Dhracian as he was brought nearer to this new person; no doubt this was the F'dor who was controlling Meridion.
"Well done, My Lord," The man sarcastically stated when Meridion stopped just a few feet away from him. It was then that the other parts of Achmed's suspicions were confirmed. He was able to see now that the man who stood before him, was not really a man but a Nain. Also, it was no ordinary Nain; this was Gyrlyth, second in command of the Nain nation.
If Gyrlyth was a F'dor, did that mean that Faedryth, the Nain leader, was a Thrall? Achmed wondered to himself. If the entire Nain nation was under the control of a F'dor and his thrall, then that could mean big trouble for everyone.
Before the Achmed could ponder any further, he was rudely dropped to the ground with another crushing wave of pain as he impacted. Fighting his way through the pain to stay conscious, he was dimly aware of the evil chuckling that issued from the Nain F'dor. "My, my," Gyrlyth was saying. "Such a rude way to treat a king. Let me help you up, Your Majesty."
The Nain bent down and grabbed Achmed by the back of the neck, pulling him up, one handed, to stare directly into the F'dor's eyes. "You are somewhat of a disappointment. For someone smart and strong enough to defeat the most powerful F'dor on the Earth, I would have expected more of a fight from you."
Achmed glared at the F'dor before him, his racial hatred boiling his blood. The place where the hand connected with his neck burned. Hatred for this being in front of him was all that his mind was able to connect with as he searched for someway to destroy it right then and there.
The F'dor laughed again as he saw the desperate hatred flowing from the Dhracian's eyes at him. "You really are pathetic, you know," the F'dor continued. "All you can do is impotently glare at me as your hatred for my kind consumes and devours you. But you know, King Achmed, my hatred of you, not just your kind, is what I have dreamed of for a very long time now." As he finished his statement, the F'dor tossed Achmed back to Meridion who had now removed his cloak. The entranced man grabbed and held Achmed as the F'dor paced in front of him as he ranted on.
"Oh yes, you have been a thorn in my side longer than you probably realize. It was you who spent endless hours torturing me, never expecting that I would be able to escape my prison to make you pay."
Achmed was listening to the man rant, but couldn't tell if he was unable to make sense of it all because of what he was saying, or because of the consuming hate that was the main focus of Achmed's attention.
The F'dor paused and looked to the king again, seeing if he had any idea what his tirade was about. "You still don't get it, do you? Well let me be a little more plain and simple for you, since that seems to be what you need. I am the F'dor who you practiced your little Thrall rituals on. I was the one, forever imprisoned with in the diamond that swung for time out of mind over the abyss. It was me that you ensnared and pulled, tore and picked at as you learned how to destroy my kind."
Finally, the words sunk into Achmed's head as he realized exactly what this F'dor was. But that was impossible; the Grandmother had told them that the pendulum where the F'dor was captured could never fail because it was being supported by all four winds.
As the fear seeped into Achmed's eyes, the F'dor laughed again and continued on. "Yes, you remember now, don't you? And you probably are wondering how I could have escaped from my inescapable prison. Well, I have another of my kind to thank for that, I believe. One who you have already destroyed before I could thank him.'
'The great vines which entered the old Dhracian city, searching out the Earth child; they tore apart the rocks, smashed the walls and ceiling to pieces, cutting the flow of two of the winds off from where I hung. With the unbalanced support to the pendulum, it came crashing down into the training circle, shattering to pieces. I was free, but had no where to go. That is, until I found the western wind which still blew through the cave. I shot up and drifted on the breeze until it brought me to the Nain where I took a foot solider as a host at first and was able to slowly work myself up the ranks."
This seemed almost impossible; "How could this be happening?" Achmed wondered. Another F'dor had a personal connection to him. At least it wasn't like this one possessed his name like the last one did, but there was certainly not much Achmed could do against this one either.
"Though it wasn't until Heiles found me that I was able to really begin my search for the last Dhracian left who had used me. He had had a brilliant plan to capture you by gaining control of your name through the Lady, or should I say, your wife? But obviously, that didn't go according to plan. So we had to come up with a new way to get you out of our way."
Achmed flinched at the mention of the word 'we'. That implied that there were more involved in this plot then just this one F'dor, possibly meaning that there was another F'dor in on it.
A wicked grin spread over Gyrlyth's face as he took notice of the flinch Achmed made. "Yes, I said we. There were originally four of us whom Heiles bound together. Heiles himself, myself, the Lirin advisor, Rial, and Tristan's new wife, Jewel. Three brothers and a sister."
Rial!?Achmed thought. Rial was who Rhapsody was going to meet on her trip to the Lirin. But she was already on her way after him; she couldn't have been taken over by the F'dor if she was going to rescue him. But what if she wasn't following me to rescue? A chilling thought entered his head. She may have already been taken over and was coming to meet up with this F'dor.
Despair washed over him as he thought of Rhapsody being a host to a F'dor. If he ever got out of this mess, he would have no choice but to kill her, and he wasn't sure if he was capable of that.
"Don't worry; your wife is untouched, for now. But you are going to be the means that one of us may gain control of her," the F'dor sneered. He was now inches away from Achmed's face, breathing his hot, rotten breath upon him. "Your death and the death of her son should be just enough to push her over the edge, giving any F'dor easy access to her to take as a host."