Page 320 of Of Empires and Dust

He slumped in their arms, eyelids drooping as they dragged him through the streets, past towers and temples, and up stairs, his bare feet trailing on the ground. As they moved, he caught glimpses of light and faces, his vision blurred. Sounds echoed in his ears: footfalls, hammers working steel, shouts, voices.

Eventually they reached the central keep, and the guards hauled him along countless corridors and up stairwells until they finally stopped in a large open chamber of grey stone. Candles in sconces added warm life to the cold grey.

The two guards held Dayne up against something hard, then unlocked his manacles and spread his arms, fastening each individually. Straps tightened around his ankles, and the two guards moved away.

Dayne’s head lolled, his neck weak and aching, the strength sapped from his bones. His sweat-soaked hair fell over his eyes, and he allowed his lids to close, finding relief in the arms of sleep.

His eyes could only have been closed for a heartbeat when he was jolted awake by a bucket of frigid water that punched the breath from his lungs. He gasped for air, pulling against his restraints.

“Now, now, now. Is it really time to sleep?” A hand clutched Dayne’s wet hair and lifted his head so he stared into the bright eyes of Loren Koraklon. “I thought you were eager for this family reunion?”

Dayne scanned the room, his heart stopping when he saw a bloody corpse strapped to an x-shaped wooden stand, wrists and ankles bound by thick leather straps and iron buckles.

“What did you do to him?” Dayne thrashed, his bonds tearing at his already frayed arms and legs. “Baren! Baren!”

“Just a few toes, a finger or two. Don’t worry, he’s only sleeping.” Loren placed the bucket onto a low wooden table. “He’s quite loyal. Did you know that? Surprised me as well. He never used to be. I always found him so agreeable. But this time around, no matter how much skin I took, or fingernails, or fingers, he refused to tell us anything.”

Loren walked over to where Baren hung from the wooden stand. He grabbed Baren’s hair and pulled back his head so Dayne could see the beaten, bruised, and bloody thing that was his brother’s face. A raw patch of scabbed flesh marked Baren’s chest where the emblem of House Ateres had once resided. Loren slapped Baren’s cheek, eliciting a weak grunt.

“See? Alive. Just as I promised.”

Loren let Baren’s head loll once more, then gestured to someone Dayne couldn’t see and pulled a stool before Dayne. As he took a seat, a porter shuffled in and unfolded a small table beside him. The young boy placed a bottle of wine and two cups on the table, then waited with his hands clasped before him. He tried his best not to look at Dayne, but his gaze kept sliding to the blood and the raw skin.

“Much obliged, Olim. Would you pour please? Thank you.”

The porter poured the wine until it came just short of the rim of both cups, bowed, glanced once more towards Dayne, then left.

Dayne stared after the boy.

“He’s not your nephew.” Loren shook his head and folded one leg over the other. He leaned back in the chair and sipped at his wine. “No, that’s my youngest. He’s seen fifteen summers. Arkin has only seen six. Strange thing, to not even know what your nephew looks like. That happens when you abandon your family.”

Arkin.Alina had named her boy after their father…

Loren shrugged, letting out a long sigh. “So, tell me Dayne, while we’re chatting. How did you survive that night? I’d thought you surely dead when that Justicar sent you overboard. I suppose it doesn’t truly matter. But I’m always intrigued.” He pulled himself up from his slouched position. “Look at me, dithering. First thing’s first. You can’t see them, but there are Lorian mages standing guard at the doors – members of the Hand in fact. Your magic will be blocked every second of every day until your sister lays down her sword, so please don’t exhaust yourself trying. Second.” Loren rose, swirling the wine in his cup. “This is more a vanity thing than anything else, but I want you to know something. I want you to know that what I did all those years ago truly was for Valtara. And what I do now isstillfor Valtara.”

Dayne hocked a mouthful of blood and saliva and spat at Loren’s feet. “You are no Valtaran.”

“You see, that’s simply not true. And this is what irks me. I could torture you, break you down, and use you as a tool to force your sister’s surrender. And don’t get me wrong, I will do that. But I want more. Your father never understood. He never listened when I spoke to him. But I wantyouto understand, to listen. Can you do that for me?”

Dayne looked past Loren to where Baren hung limp. Half-healed scars and scabs covered his body. Two fingers were missing from his left hand, down to the first knuckle. A toefrom each foot. Dayne gritted his teeth, then turned his gaze to Loren, who was staring at him while swirling the wine. “Tell me whatever you want. I’ll listen. But I wantyouto understand that Iwillkill you. I will do things to you that will make your soul scream after I’ve torn it from your body. I will break you for what you have done to my family.”

“Those are strong words for a man strapped to a post. I could kill you right now. In fact, a few more cups of wine and I just might. Though you’re more use to me alive – lucky for you.” Loren returned to his chair, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. “Your father was willing to start a civil war. He was willing to watch our people slaughter each other while the Lorian dragons burned the survivors to ash.”

“He was willing to sacrifice anything for a free Valtara,” Dayne snarled.

“Anything? What about his honour?” Loren pursed his lips and shook his head. “No,” he said mockingly. “Arkin Ateres would never sacrifice his precious honour. Not even if it meant saving the lives of tens of thousands – hundreds of thousands. All he had to do was bend his knee, shut his fucking mouth, and eat from the silver spoon he had been gifted. Your family hadeverything. You didn’t suffer like the others. You just used their plight to rally them.”

“You let them burn Stormwatch.” Every drop of hatred in Dayne’s heart bled into those words.

“And you made it necessary!” Loren’s rage came on in an instant, his face red, veins bulging. “Do you think I wanted that?” he asked, calming. “What kind of monster wants to watch thousands burned alive? I would have doneanything,giveneverythingto stop that. That was why I never wanted a rebellion. There comes a point where the cost in blood is not worth the freedom. Wearefree,” he said, throwing out his arms.“Can you not wed who you want? Can you not live like a king in the comfort of Redstone?”

“They take two-fifths of everything. They take our firstborn. People starve all across Valtara. This is not freedom, Loren.”

“They do thatbecauseof rebellion, Dayne. And what freedom does your sister offer? The freedom to die young beside the ones you love? More Valtarans have died in her rebellion than in all the years since the first rebellion. You see, Dayne, there is a distinct difference between your family and mine. You say that your father was willing to sacrifice anything for a free Valtara. And you are right. He was. That was the problem. He was willing to sacrifice any number of lives – lives he had no right to sacrifice – in order to claim Valtara’s freedom. I was not. I will sacrifice anything that is my own. I will sacrifice my honour in the eyes of others, my name, my life – anything I have a right to give, I will give. That is why I do what I do. I don’t care if you hate me. I just want my people to stop dying in your family’s wars. You’re already spilling enough blood to fill rivers, I may as well add a few drops to turn the tide.”

Loren sat forwards and finished his cup, then stood, gaze narrowing as he studied Dayne. “You’re just like him, you know. Not only in your face, but in that unshaking arrogance. In that unerring belief that you are always doing what’s right.”

Dayne leaned forwards, straining against the straps that held him. “Where is my nephew?”

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